


Taken

by WeirdEmmaline (DeliaDestruction)



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5595058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliaDestruction/pseuds/WeirdEmmaline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan Kenobi is in danger, and Qui-Gon Jinn is the only one who can sense it. Can he manage to keep his Padawan safe, or will the nightmares that plague him come true?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disturbance

“Jump, Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon cried, veering closer with his speeder. If the boy didn’t jump soon, Qui-Gon would lose visual contact. With only the aid of the force, finding the boy could prove far more difficult. His captors were clearly Force-sensitive. Every time their speeder pulled away from his it was as though Obi-Wan ceased to have any affect on the Living Force.

The boy hesitated, kneeling on the back of the enclosed speeder. His hands were bound and he was struggling to find any sort of hand hold. “Jump!” Qui-Gon hollered again, pulling right up next to the other speeder.

As Obi-Wan stood to do as he was told, the hatch by his foot hissed open. There was a single blaster shot, and Obi-Wan’s eyes widened before his entire body slackened and he fell, hitting Qui-Gon’s speeder with a sickening _thud_ before falling through the late evening traffic.

“Obi-Wan!” he shouted, reaching after him as though it would do any good. The boy had been shot in the back of the head. It was a clean hit. He was dead before he hit the side of the speeder.

The Jedi Master didn’t have time to mourn the loss of his Padawan. His life was still in very real danger. In the same moment that Obi-Wan’s corpse slipped out of sight, Qui-Gon was on his feet, piloting the speeder with only the Force now as he drew his lightsaber. He deflected the blaster’s second shot. A pity for the being shooting it, as it would be the last weapon they would ever be able to fire. With one rage-fueled swing of his saber, the being no longer had an arm.

Qui-Gon leapt onto the other speeder, abandoning the one he had stolen in his pursuit of the beasts that had abducted his Padawan. He hated them and they would pay for what they had done. He slaughtered them where they sat, shutting out the sick way his stomach felt at taking lives, guilty or not.

As he stood where his Padawan had spent the last terrifying moments of his life and observed what he had done, Qui-Gon Jinn felt two things. One of those things was fear. The other was unrelenting power. The two fed each other, consuming him.

He woke to find himself utterly drenched in sweat beside a peacefully sleeping, oblivious Obi-Wan Kenobi. It took him a long minute to remember that he and his Padawan Learner were en route back to Coruscant after an extended mission in the Outer Rim.

It had been nearly four months since they’d last seen the Jedi Temple. Even asleep, Obi-Wan gave off an incredible amount of enthusiasm at the prospect of going home.

Qui-Gon sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the narrow bunk the two shared, careful not to disturb the younger man’s slumber. After a nightmare of that caliber, Qui-Gon was in desperate need of a moment alone to focus and forget.

 _It could be prophetic_ , he reminded himself as he crossed the room and entered the fresher, locking the door behind him. Though the cabins on this vessel were particularly small, they did seem to value privacy.

“It’s nothing but a dream,” he told himself as he faced himself in the mirror. The face he saw was not one that believed his words. The nightmare had been easy enough to pass off as simply that when it had only come to him once in a great while.

This was the fifth time he’d been woken by the same nightmare in two nights. It was only a matter of time before he would wake his Padawan and cause him to worry.

He stared at himself in the mirror for a long time, his cobalt-blue eyes studying his every feature. It had been months since he’d had access to a proper mirror, and although he’d tamed his beard before he’d gone to sleep that night he hadn’t really looked at himself.

There was a new streak of gray hair just behind his left ear, and the bags beneath his eyes were more apparent than ever. He’d never been one to get enough sleep, but lately it was really beginning to take its toll.

Fresh lines had sprouted around his eyes, but his laugh lines had also deepened. His mind— and his heart— went to the boy still sleeping so peacefully on the bunk, though he knew he was no longer a boy at all but a man fast approaching his twenty-second birthday. It was hard for Qui-Gon to believe that he had been training the boy for nearly nine years. At the same time, he could hardly believe that it had _only_ been nine years. The casual familiarity of the boy was such that he felt he’d known him for all of time.

He peeled off his nightclothes, knowing there wasn’t a chance that he would fall back asleep, and stepped into the sonic.

When he stepped back out of the fresher, Qui-Gon Jinn was himself again. The nightmare was pushed to the back of his mind, where he forced himself not to focus on it. His face bore the casual near-smirk that served as his resting facial expression. His eyes, though tired and far away, did not bear the worry that the nightmare had stirred up in him. No, Qui-Gon simply looked properly put-together for the day, which was the exact illusion he wanted to give off.

He watched his Padawan sleep for a long moment before he sat on the floor and cleared his mind to meditate. The second his eyes were closed, he could see that speeder again, could see the hollow, empty look in Obi-Wan’s eyes as he pitched forward, falling through the evening traffic on Coruscant.

Qui-Gon’s eyes snapped open and his breath caught in his throat. _I guess that rules meditation out as a pastime,_ he thought with a sigh. He knew it couldn’t possibly be too much longer before they arrived on Coruscant, but even a few minutes with an idle mind could prove problematic with such thoughts plaguing him.

 _I will have to ask the Masters,_ he thought. _Perhaps Yoda or Master Windu will be able to ease my mind and tell me it’s naught but a bad dream._

He turned his attention back to the young man who was still asleep, still facing away from him, still blissfully unaware of his Master’s plight. Qui-Gon found himself envious of the boy’s ability to sleep so soundly in just about any situation. He reached out with Force just to peek at the boy’s dreams.

The boy’s dreams were serene, if a bit confusing. This wasn’t the first time that Qui-Gon had taken a peek into his apprentice’s dreams, nor did he imagine it would be his last. The boy never seemed to mind much, though Qui-Gon suspected that was because he’d peeked into his Master’s dreams once or twice as well.

Not that he minded, of course. Unless Obi-Wan were to venture into his consciousness at just the wrong time and catch _that_ nightmare… He shook his head again, pulling back into himself as he felt the first stirrings of his Padawan as he began to wake.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate and meditate. It was another fifteen minutes before the boy finally rolled over and sat up. Qui-Gon felt the boy’s eyes appraise him as he debated his first moves.

Eventually he decided that it couldn’t hurt to take a shower. As the door hissed shut behind the younger man, Qui-Gon stood and strode over to the bunk. He tucked the blanket that Obi-Wan had been using back into the mattress and smoothed out the pillow the boy had used. He resisted the urge to stick his face in the faded linen of the pillowcase and breathe in the familiar scent of his Padawan.

The door to the fresher hissed open and Obi-Wan stepped out into the main of the cabin clad only in his pants and one of his boots. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow when he noticed the missing boot. Obi-Wan looked about half-asleep yet as he searched the floor of the cabin for his missing boot.

“Rough night?” Qui-Gon asked. Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped fully open and he looked up at his Master. He shook his head vigorously.

“No, Master. I slept quite well. I wish you could say the same,” he said. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure his eyebrow could go any higher, but boy did it ever try. “I woke briefly when you got up. Did you have another nightmare?”

He could see in the boy’s eyes that he wasn’t able to hide his surprise at the boy’s nonchalance. _Of_ course _he’s aware of what’s going on,_ Qui-Gon thought. _Even if he doesn’t know what the nightmare is about, he’s well aware that something’s the matter._

“You are most observant, Obi-Wan.”

A small smile played on the younger man’s lips. “Only because I’ve learned from the best.” His face turned serious again, though his eyes retained a hint of that smile. “I know you’re hiding something from me in order to protect me, Master. Whatever it is, you know I can handle it.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed. _If only you knew, Obi-Wan. If only you knew how wrong you are about that._

“It is nothing for you to concern yourself with, Obi-Wan. Each of us has our own internal struggles. They are ours and ours alone to bear.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head and gave his Master a look.

“If they’re our struggles, as you said, doesn’t that imply we should share them?” Qui-Gon was struck by the wisdom of his Padawan’s words. He’d given little thought to the way he’d worded his reply, but the wording had been deliberate. He looked away.

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked. “Am I wrong?”

As the Master opened his mouth to reply, an announcement played through all the corridors and cabins on the ship, alerting all passengers that they were approaching Coruscant.

 

Qui-Gon did not relax, did not seem to even _breathe_ until the two of them crossed the threshold into the safety of the Jedi Temple. From the moment his boots hit the landing pad until he practically shoved his Padawan through the door to the Temple he was on high alert. Even once inside, he was less-than-willing to allow his Padawan out of his sight for even a moment.

Though obviously still quite tired, Obi-Wan dutifully walked alongside his Master to the Council Chamber, where he would wait just outside as his Master spoke about their mission and its successes. When Qui-Gon beckoned for him to accompany him inside, Obi-Wan was all too eager to join him.

“Master Qui-Gon, so good to see you again, it is,” Master Yoda said, leaning forward in his chair.

“I trust the conflict on Rinn has been resolved,” Plo Koon said. Qui-Gon nodded once and sighed.

“Our presence on Rinn was welcome, but not necessary,” he reported. “We were merely observers. Given time and space to figure outtheir own solutions, the locals were able to resolve their problems.” Master Windu raised an eyebrow. “Though we were sought out for minor advice, in the end it was a local girl named Yasha that managed to bring peace. We remained to observe for an additional month, and the peace seems to be lasting.”

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably at his side. After spending so long in a place where his presence was hardly noticed it was strange to have so many eyes fixed on him. He glanced up at his Master. If Qui-Gon was uncomfortable, he did not show it. Oh, how Obi-Wan wanted to emulate his Master!

“If you’ll excuse us now, it has been a very long journey and we are in need of rest.”

“Of course,” Master Windu said, nodding. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon bowed to the Masters before turning and exiting the room.

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked after they’d put a reasonable distance between themselves and the Council Chamber. Qui-Gon glanced down at him expectantly. “You never answered my question.”

“Which question was that?” Qui-Gon asked placidly.

“You said that we each have our own problems that are ours to bear. If they are ours to bear, does that not mean we should share them?”

Qui-Gon shook his head, chuckling dryly. “You’re really going to argue a matter of phrasing. You understood what I meant, Obi-Wan.”

“Qui-Gon.”

“It is nothing to concern yourself with, Obi-Wan. I’ve dealt with nightmares many times in the past and I’m sure these will not be my last. I appreciate your worry, but it is misplaced. Focus on your studies, my young Padawan.”


	2. A Comforting Presence

Once alone, Qui-Gon made an attempt at taking a nap, but found it impossible to do so. The moment his head touched his pillow, he was out like a light. Less than twenty minutes later he was wide awake. His heart felt like it was attempting to escape his chest. It took him far longer than it ever had to calm himself, and even then he couldn’t calm himself completely. The image of his dead Padawan stayed fresh in his mind, playing again and again just for him every time he closed his eyes.  
 _I’ve got to speak to the Council about this dream, he thought with a sigh. I can’t go on like this. Obi-Wan deserves better from me._  
He ran a comb through his hair and tied it back, carefully avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. That darkness, that sheer _power_ he felt at the end of the dream shook him to the very core of his being. He didn’t want to look into his own eyes and see that darkness staring back at him.   
As he exited his quarters and strode down the long corridor toward the meditation room where he knew he would find Master Yoda, he tried to will away his worry. _Surely it is but a dream,_ he thought. _Yoda will set me right._  
He passed a young knight he didn’t know by name whose cheeks flushed when she caught sight of him. He flashed her a small smile and nodded a silent greeting as he passed. The tiny giggle that hit his ears was almost musical.   
He tried one last time to clear his mind and calm himself before he alerted Yoda to his presence. The door hissed open, and Qui-Gon stepped inside as Yoda lifted the shades to allow some light into the room.  
“Master Qui-Gon,” said Yoda, “something to say, have you?” Qui-Gon nodded as he sat on a cushion opposite the one Yoda was nestled in.   
“For months now I have been having this recurring dream,” he began. He proceeded to tell the Master every detail of the nightmare that had been seared into his memory, his voice tinged with guilt as he spoke of the terrible power he felt just before waking each time.   
For a long time, Yoda said nothing.   
“Dwelled too long on this, you have. This dream is nothing more than that.”  
Qui-Gon found he had vastly overestimated how much hearing that would calm him. Even coming from the oldest and wisest of them all, it sounded like a lie.   
“Master Yoda—”  
“Fear losing your Padawan, do you?” Yoda asked, cutting him off. Qui-Gon was taken aback.   
“…Yes, I do,” he admitted quietly after a long silence. “Of course I do. He’s so young, Master Yoda. He’s only a boy.”  
“Master Qui-Gon,” Yoda said, his tone grave. “A great understanding of the dark side, you have. Afford to be afraid for your Padawan’s life, you cannot.” Qui-Gon nodded, closing his eyes.   
“I know,” he said. “It is a struggle. I am trying.”  
“Do, or do not, Qui-Gon,” Yoda said, his voice sharp. Qui-Gon opened his eyes to Yoda leaning forward and making eye contact so intense it made the other Master rather uncomfortable. “There is no try.”  
Again, Qui-Gon nodded. He stood then and bowed before leaving the room hastily.   
_Something is amiss here,_ he thought. _There is something we aren’t seeing. The dark side is clouding our vision._ He decided grab a meal. It was nearing dinnertime, after all, and it had been nearly a full day since he’d allowed himself a meal. He was certain that food had been the first thing on his Padawan’s mind when they’d arrived. For Qui-Gon, the hunger that gnawed at his ribs felt like nothing compared to the prospect of losing the boy.  
He brought his food back to his quarters where he ate in solitude. It felt strange to eat alone after four straight months of sharing every meal with his Padawan, but it was not an entirely unwelcome feeling. He knew he had grown attached to his apprentice. Too attached, the Council would say. Time apart would only prove to be good for the both of them in the end.   
_We simply will not accept another mission for a while,_ he thought once his belly was full and his thoughts were clearer. If they didn’t leave the Temple, Qui-Gon would not have to worry about letting his Padawan wander. The Temple was closed off to outsiders, and no Jedi would betray another by abducting their Padawan Learner.   
He knew it wouldn’t be easy to keep the boy at the Temple. With every passing year he’d grown more and more eager to explore the galaxy. Time spent at the Temple, though it was his home, was time he felt was wasted.  
 _What better time to teach the boy some patience,_ he thought with a small grin. _This will work._  
The door chimed, alerting Qui-Gon that someone wished to see him. He stood and smoothed out his tunic. “Come in,” he said. The door hissed open and in walked Obi-Wan, bright-eyed and wearing a broad grin. He bowed slightly in reverence as he approached his Master.   
“Master, the Council has chosen me to tutor younglings!” he said far more enthusiastically than Qui-Gon had ever envisioned him being at the prospect of working with small children. “It’s a month-long commitment, so I won’t be able to go anywhere…” His voice— and his smile— fell as he said that, but he shook his head and the smile returned. Clearly the added responsibility was something the boy was craving.   
“That’s wonderful, Obi-Wan,” the Master replied. “You are well on your way to becoming a wise and powerful Jedi Knight.”  
Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and Qui-Gon felt the joy barely contained in within the boy grow. Before he could protest, Obi-Wan threw his arms around his Master, hugging him tightly. Qui-Gon relished in the physical contact; it wasn’t often that the boy willingly hugged him anymore. In the last few years he’d become obsessed with his appearance, his reputation.   
Qui-Gon was hoping that he’d grow out of it with time. The way the boy clung to him now gave him a glimmer of hope. He rested his chin against the top of the boy’s head and closed his eyes as he enveloped his Padawan in his thick, strong arms.   
And then, as suddenly as he’d initiated the hug, Obi-Wan pulled away, his cheeks flushed. He looked at the floor. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m sure you’re exhausted after our mission. I won’t keep you any longer,” he said. He turned to leave, but Qui-Gon reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.  
“No, Obi-Wan, stay. If you have nothing else to do right now, I could use the company.” -Please,- he added silently, hoping he wouldn’t sound too desperate. He’d been perfectly content to spend the rest of his night alone until the boy had hugged him.   
Obi-Wan nodded. “All right,” he said. “If you’re sure I’m not being an annoyance, Master.”   
Qui-Gon couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. “An annoyance? Surely I’ve never caused you to feel as though you are annoying me.” Obi-Wan shook his head.  
“I know I am difficult to deal with sometimes, Master, but you’ve never been anything but gracious and patient with me. I did not mean to accuse.” They made their way to the small sitting area near the door and sat across from each other. For a long while, they sat in silence, simply enjoying one another’s presence.   
“You really ought to rest, Master,” Obi-Wan murmured. He didn’t need to reach out to his Master to feel the exhaustion radiating off of him. “You look as though you might fall asleep in your chair.” Qui-Gon shook his head.  
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. He felt his Padawan reaching out to him via their Force-Bond, but he didn’t reach out to meet him. It was too much of a risk that the boy would see too much if he allowed him into his mind then. Obi-Wan sighed.  
“Master, I only want to help,” he said. His voice was filled with worry.   
“Your presence is help enough, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon assured him. Obi-Wan _was_ right, he was exhausted. It took great effort to stay awake and alert enough to converse with the boy. Qui-Gon wanted to ask him to stay the night— he knew he would have a better chance of sleeping if Obi-Wan was nearby— but he felt foolish asking the boy to stay. He hadn’t since Obi-Wan was still a child, a few months before his eighteenth birthday, in fact.   
When he turned his attention back to his Padawan, he found that he was being stared at. Obi-Wan’s face bore a serious expression as he studied the face of his Master. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow in response.  
“Is there something I can help you with, Obi-Wan?” he asked. Obi-Wan shook his head once, but continued to watch his Master. “It’s impolite to stare, Obi-Wan.”  
“I’m sorry, Master. I’ve just never seen you this distressed before. You look like you could pass out at any moment. If even Master Yoda was unable to ease your mind, I can’t help but worry for you. If you’d just tell me what’s bothering you, maybe I can help!”  
Qui-Gon gave him a sad smile. Though the boy still had much to learn about the Living Force, he was already a very compassionate man who selflessly wanted to help others when he could. He knew if he told Obi-Wan about the dream it would do more harm than good. He said nothing. Obi-Wan gave a soft grunt of frustration and stood up.  
As he started for the door, Qui-Gon stood and reached for him with both his hand and the Force. Obi-Wan stopped and waited. “Stay,” he pleaded. “Please, Obi-Wan.”   
“You ought to rest, Master. Get some sleep,” Obi-Wan replied.   
“I might sleep better with you here,” Qui-Gon said. “Your presence is soothing.” Obi-Wan turned back to face him and nodded.  
“Then I will stay, Qui-Gon. But I must insist that you try to sleep.” Qui-gon nodded.  
“You drive a hard bargain, Obi-Wan, but I think I can agree to your terms.” He was too tired to continue arguing. He hadn’t been so tired before his Padawan had shown up. He blamed it on how comfortable he felt in his presence. He removed his tunic and boots before climbing into bed. Obi-Wan sat down next to him on the bed with a datapad. He had much to research before he started helping the younglings.  
With his Padawan beside him, Qui-Gon fell asleep quickly. Obi-Wan leaned against the headboard, only casually reading what was on the datapad he held. His focus was elsewhere.   
As his Master slept, the walls he’d built around himself with the Force crumbled. Obi-Wan was taking full advantage of that. If his Master had another nightmare he wanted to know what it was about. Maybe he could help then.   
Eventually he abandoned the datapad, setting it on the low shelf that hung above the bed before he curled up beside his Master. As far as he could tell, his Master’s sleep so far had been blissfully dreamless.


	3. An Old Man's Confession

Qui-Gon stood on the back of the speeder his Padawan had fallen from just moments before and surveyed the destruction caused by his own hand. He could hear distant shouting. It almost sounded like someone was calling his name. The speeder was losing momentum now that its pilot was slumped over dead in his seat.  
-Qui-Gon, wake up,- Obi-Wan called through their Force bond. The dream faded as Qui-Gon felt himself being pulled up and out of the murky waters of sleep.   
He woke to find himself hopelessly tangled in his sheets with Obi-Wan trying to keep him from falling off the bed completely. His Padawan looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Qui-Gon’s heart shattered as he realized that he’d seen the nightmare. He knew the darkness that lurked in his Master’s heart. He’d seen what Qui-Gon had been so careful about keeping from him.   
A wave of shame washed over the Jedi Master as he struggled to free himself from the tangled sheets. _It’s my own fault, I was selfish in wanting him to stay last night,_ he thought as he quickly shielded his mind from his Padawan’s inquisitive probing.   
“It’s all right, you’re all right,”Obi-Wan said soothingly as he helped his Master free himself. “It was just a dream.”  
“It’s not just a dream,” Qui-Gon mumbled. “A mere dream would take its leave from my life. This one persists.”  
Obi-Wan said nothing, simply continued to work to free his Master. Once Qui-Gon was freed of the tangled bedsheets, he practically sprinted to the fresher, locking the door behind himself.   
_How humiliating,_ he thought as he leaned across the sink. He rested his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror that hung above the sink and he sighed. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with the faucet. _I’ve failed him again. He shouldn’t know such things about me. I wasn’t strong enough to face my struggles alone and now—_  
-Master? Do you want me to stay?- Obi-Wan asked through their training bond. Qui-Gon didn’t know how to answer him. Selfishly he did want the boy to stay, but he also was desperate to nurse his shame alone. He did not answer, merely splashed his face with cold water a few times and willed his hands to stop shaking.   
Fifteen minutes later, Qui-Gon emerged from the fresher looking a lot closer to himself than he had upon waking. Obi-Wan was sitting on the edge of the freshly made bed, waiting patiently for his Master. He wouldn’t meet the younger man’s eyes as he crossed the room and put on a fresh tunic. He could feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him as he walked back over and sat in his favorite chair near the fresher door. He faced his Padawan but still did not look at him.   
“Is that the same nightmare you’ve been having all this time, Master?” Obi-Wan asked after a long, not entirely unpleasant silence had passed between them. Qui-Gon said nothing. “It’s not going to happen, Master. You don’t have to worry about me.”   
“Obi-Wan…” Qui-Gon sighed. He could feel the boy reaching out to him through the Force and he wanted to let down his guard, but he’d already let him see too much. “You don’t understand.”  
“Then help me understand. Don’t shut me out, Master. Please. I want to help you.”  
The older man finally met his padawan’s gaze. Obi-Wan was taken aback at the pain and sadness he saw. _How blind have I been? How long has he been hiding this from me? I’ve failed him,_ he thought as he looked into his Master’s eyes. He felt helpless as he sat there, knowing that a hug would likely be ill-received. Once Qui-Gon had begun to have the recurring nightmares he’d retreated into himself. If Obi-Wan happened to touch him when he wasn’t asleep the Master would flinch.  
But as he thought of the many times his touches had been rebuked, he remembered the hug from the night before. Qui-Gon hadn’t shied away then. In fact it had seemed that his Master had wished that hug to last longer than it had. _Perhaps he won’t shy away now,_ he thought.   
He stood up and walked over to where his Master sat. He knelt beside him and hugged him over the arm of the old chair his Master favored. Qui-Gon tensed, his breath catching in his throat, but Obi-Wan held on.  
Slowly— almost painfully so— he felt his Master’s defenses begin to crumble. The connection was almost overwhelming. It had been months since his Master had truly dropped his guard around him. Years even, possibly.  
“You’ve been hiding from me for so long, Master,” Obi-Wan exclaimed softly, tears welling in his eyes. He had to back out of Qui-Gon’s mind. He’d never felt such fear coming from his Master, nor such love. It wasn’t the love he was so used to feeling from his Master. It was different, more intense, and bathed in the man’s fear.   
“It is not your place to worry about me, Obi-Wan. It has been for your own good.” Qui-Gon’s words were laced with the guilt that overwhelmed the connection between the two men. Obi-Wan loosened his grip and pulled back so he could look his Master in the eye.   
“Qui-Gon, I’m not a little boy anymore. You don’t have to hide things from me to protect me. You know me better than even Bant knows me, and she’s known me for far longer. If you’ve been in such pain for so long, you should’ve told me. I shouldn’t be worrying about you, you’re right. I should be helping you.”   
“It is forbidden,” Qui-Gon said guiltily. “The level of attachment I feel for you. Master Yoda senses it. He believes that is where the dream is coming from.”  
“But you’re not so sure,” Obi-Wan said. He was hesitantly testing the waters with Qui-Gon’s mind once more, wary of the love and guilt that had threatened to consume him the last time. He didn’t understand why Qui-Gon would hide feelings of love. Attachment was forbidden, but love certainly wasn’t.   
“I’ve had dreams that have spawned from my anxieties before. They’ve never lingered as long as this.”  
“Well it’s not going to come true,” Obi-Wan assured him. “Unless one of the younglings is a bounty hunter in disguise.”  
Qui-Gon couldn’t help but chuckle at the very idea of a bounty hunter posing as a small child in order to complete a job. His Padawan was glad to hear the sound of his laughter. It was something he’d heard far too little of in recent times.   
He felt the fear in his Master recede, leaving only that strange abundance of love.   
_That can’t… That can’t be for me,_ he thought. _And yet…_  
He couldn’t deny the feelings he harbored for his Master. He’d never made any attempt to hide them however, and Qui-Gon had been quick to remind him that attachment was forbidden and that it would be best to redirect any feelings he had toward his Master into something productive.   
And yet here his Master was, clinging to emotions he’d made it clear that he expected his Padawan to ignore or redirect.   
He stood up and straightened his tunic, breaking the physical contact with his Master as abruptly as it had begun. Qui-Gon reached out for him, but Obi-Wan moved just beyond his reach.  
Qui-Gon wished he could ease the turmoil in the boy’s mind. So long he’d kept his feelings hidden from the boy to spare him from such internal conflict.   
“I should’ve told you ages ago,” he said finally. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I thought that, with time, I could control my emotions, but I can’t.”   
“How long have you felt this way?” Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon couldn’t get a proper read on his emotions. He stood to face his Padawan.   
“Since before it was proper,” he admitted.   
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Obi-Wan was trying hard not to feel hurt at how long his Master had kept him in the dark. He’d struggled with feelings toward his Master since he was a young teenager. Even if they wouldn’t end up together, _couldn’t_ end up together, it would’ve been helpful to know he wasn’t alone in developing such feelings.   
“I, and the Council, thought it best.”  
“ _You told the Council?_ ” Obi-Wan’s eyes stung as tears welled and threatened to escape down his cheeks.   
“I went before them with concerns I did not name and Yoda guessed correctly. You were still a child. My feelings were improper.”  
“I’m not a child any longer, Master.” Qui-Gon shook his head.  
“You are still my apprentice. It’ll look—”   
Obi-Wan couldn’t listen to him try to justify keeping him in the dark for so long any longer. He closed the gap between them in two long strides, grabbed his Master by the hair, pulled him down and kissed him. It was a desperate, needy kiss, but it was also incredibly chaste.   
When he released his Master and stepped back, he was pleased to note the dumbstruck expression the older man wore as he stared down at his Padawan. Obi-Wan’s cheeks burned red at the thought of what he’d just done. What he’d wanted to do for _years._  
“Obi-Wan…”   
The younger man barely had time to look up before Qui-Gon was practically on top of him, his hands cupping his face, his fingers playing with the long braid that rested behind his ear, his lips pressed against his forehead, his nose, his mouth…  
-I’m sorry,- Qui-Gon said wordlessly. It was all he could say and he knew it wasn’t enough, so he took every emotion he’d suppressed over the years and projected them to his Padawan.   
Obi-Wan’s knees buckled as the wave of Qui-Gon’s love hit him. He clung to his Master’s tunic and rested his head against his chest when finally Qui-Gon broke the kiss, panting softly.


	4. In An Instant

The night sky was beautiful. Qui-Gon and his apprentice had been sitting on a balcony for many hours watching ships take off into the deep black void of space. He turned his attention to the younger man who was lying next to him, memorizing the joy on his face. He’d never seen his apprentice so happy.

Though he was apprehensive about exposing themselves in such a way, he couldn’t say no to Obi-Wan when he requested that they go stargazing. It was one of the few simple pleasures they knew they could always share.

With Obi-Wan nuzzled up beside him, Qui-Gon felt the calmest he had in months. Had he known this was what he was missing out on by hiding his love from the younger man, he would’ve been far more open with him far sooner.

It would only be a few more hours until the sun came up and they would have to go about their duties. Surely the Council would have some task for Qui-Gon to do while his Padawan fulfilled his newfound responsibilities with the younglings. For the first time in a long time he found himself excited for what the future could bring.

That excitement was short-lived, however. Shortly before the first rays of sunlight would begin to hit the tops of nearby buildings, both Jedi sensed a disturbance in the Force. It was massive, catastrophic. They barely managed to get to their feet before they discovered the source.

A loud explosion shook the temple, sending them sprawling across the balcony away from each other.

Two more explosions shook the temple, knocking part of the balcony loose. Obi-Wan slid toward the railing as the stone beneath him began to tilt and crumble. Qui-Gon reached out for him with both his arms and the Force, but he couldn’t get a good grip on the boy.

That was when he heard it. Just before the bounty hunter came into his view, Qui-Gon heard the hum of a jetpack rocket. His eyes widened in horror as a warrior clad in silver and blue armor landed behind his Padawan on the fast-deteriorating balcony.

He rushed forward, but the bounty hunter was too quick. “No!” he cried, the word catching roughly in his throat and presenting itself more like a growl. “Obi-Wan!”

The boy scrambled to get away from he imposing figure that stood over him, but before he could grab his Master’s hand one thick-gloved hand found the collar of his tunic, wrenching him back and away from Qui-Gon.

“No— No!” Obi-Wan screamed, struggling against the grip of the Mandalorian. A strong, armor-plated arm snaked its way around the young man’s belly, and within a few seconds he was airborne, kicking and thrashing. He reached for his lightsaber, but the arm that had him so tightly by the waist also had a tight grip on his weapon.

Qui-Gon refused to stand by and watch helplessly as his Padawan was taken. He glanced around, taking quick stock of his options. Just three stories below him was a landing pad. There was bound to be a speeder there. He looked back up to his Padawan as the bounty hunter continued his hasty retreat.

-I’m coming for you, Obi-Wan,- he promised through their bond. He felt Obi-Wan begin to protest. -I can’t lose you, not now.-

He leapt from the balcony, using the Force to slow and guide his fall. He landed more roughly than he anticipated in the pilot’s seat of a formidable craft that the Jedi Order had come into possession of only recently. Qui-Gon could feel its potential for immense speed as he powered it up.

Looking back up, he could hardly see his Padawan anymore. But he could feel him.

He took off after them, dodging the early morning traffic. He tried to push out of his mind the sense of deja vu that crept up on him as he passed many of the same landmarks that were present in his dream.

 _Of course I’m passing them,_ he reminded himself. _They’re familiar and close to the Temple. Of course my mind would go to them. It only makes sense. Obi-Wan will survive this._

_He has to._

He was gaining on them, the bounty hunter’s jetpack no match for the speeder’s engines. He saw, in dismay, that it wouldn’t matter. The bounty hunter’s ship was just ahead. He _was_ gaining on them, but nowhere near fast enough to reach the landing platform in time.

 _What are my options?_ He looked around desperately, panic beginning to creep into his usual calm demeanor. He couldn’t lose his Padawan. This couldn’t be happening. It was all just a dream, he just needed to wake up…

The Mandalorian landed near his ship then, still carrying a frantically struggling Obi-Wan. As he strode across the landing platform to his ship, Qui-Gon made a desperate decision. He leapt from the speeder to the landing platform, just barely managing to grab the edge as gravity caught him.

With the help of the Force, he managed to pull himself up. His lightsaber was ignited and at the ready before he’d taken three steps.

The bounty hunter turned and held Obi-Wan as a shield.

“Let him go, Jango,” Qui-Gon roared as he approached.

“Come now, old friend,” replied the bounty hunter, his voice distorted, mechanized somehow by the filter in his helmet. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Drop him, Jango. Now.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes were wide with disbelief as he listened to the casual way the two spoke to one another.

-You know this guy?- he asked Qui-Gon, but he got no response. His Master was far too focused on the heavily armored man holding him.

“No can do,” replied the bounty hunter as he raised a sleek, silver blaster and aimed it at Obi-Wan’s head. Qui-Gon staggered backward at the sight. Beneath his helmet, Jango Fett smirked. “I’m sorry, old friend,” he said as he backed his way up the ramp into his ship.

“Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan shouted as the hatch began to close. His Master stood, helpless to help him without also killing him. “Qui-Gon!”

As Jango Fett took off in the _Slave I,_ he looked down at the man on the landing platform and sighed. _Old fool_ , he thought. _Force-sensitive old fool. His emotions betrayed him, just as they always have._

Down in the underbelly of the ship, shackled and deprived of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan Kenobi screamed. Jango so enjoyed it when his prey screamed. It was far more amusing than the strong, silent types he encountered. He imagined Qui-Gon Jinn would be one such strong, silent type.

Back on the landing pad on Coruscant, Qui-Gon sank to his knees as _Slave I_ left the planet’s atmosphere. There were no other ships on the platform, no one with which to barter for transport.

By the time he managed to secure a ship, Jango and Obi-Wan were likely to be halfway across the galaxy.

He retrieved the speeder he’d abandoned, thankful that it had simply puttered to a stop before hitting anything, and with one last forlorn look to the sky, he turned and sped back to the Temple. There was much damage to repair.

-I will find you, Obi-Wan,- Qui-Gon promised. He wasn’t certain he believed himself, and he knew that it was wrong to make a promise he wasn’t certain he could keep, but it calmed him somehow.

The damage done to the Jedi Temple was devastating. Dozens of initiates and younglings were injured and countless knights and padawans were assumed killed in the explosions that had rocked the northern wall. Four others had gone missing. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been taken as his Padawan had.

Though he wanted quite badly to tell Yoda how wrong he’d been about the dream, he knew it would be an exercise in futility. It would also be giving in to his rage rather than channeling it into something useful. Qui-Gon dove with vigor into rescue attempts. So many were trapped under the rubble of what had been a mighty structure.

In truth, much of the Temple was still standing. It was only those who had been near their windows at the time of the blast or out on a balcony that had truly suffered in the first explosion. It was when the knights had come to help and the second explosion hit that the bulk of the deaths occurred.

Qui-Gon grew more disheartened with every dead child he found, and the amount of dead children he found only grew as time went on. Some were clinging to one another in fear, even in death. Those were the ones that weighed heaviest on his mind.

“Master Jinn?” A small, familiar voice cut into his thoughts as he carefully pulled a dead knight he was only vaguely familiar with from the rubble. It took him a moment to realize that it was the girl he’d casually flirted with in the corridor just a few hours before.

Wrapped in her robes, held protectively out in front of her, was ayoungling. The little girl was badly injured, but she was alive. As Qui-Gon turned to alert the healers of his discovery, he found himself facing Bant, Obi-Wan’s oldest and closest friend. The pain in her eyes brought Qui-Gon the closest he’d been to crying in a very, very long time.

“Master Jinn,” she repeated. “If… If there’s anything I can do to help you find Obi-Wan…” She cast a sad look at the rubble near his feet. He had to resist the urge to surge forth and hug her.

“Thank you, Bant. But I fear this is something I shall have to do alone,” he replied as he moved past her with the youngling in his arms. He watched as the healers took her from him, whisking her away to treat her wounds.

“Qui-Gon, sir?” Bant asked. He glanced back at her. “You… You will find him, right?”

Without missing a beat, Qui-Gon nodded. “Whatever it takes. I will bring Obi-Wan home safe.” There was something oddly reassuring about his words, even he felt it. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go speak with the Council at once.”

Bant nodded as Qui-Gon turned and walked off. He felt as though is feet were hardly touching the floor as he hurried to the Council Chamber. He knew that they had already gathered there to discuss what the next official move would be.

He buzzed at the door, but he didn’t wait to be acknowledged before he opened the door manually and strode in.

He argued with the Masters gathered there for only twenty minutes before walking away with what he needed: a ship and the council’s blessing to deal with the bounty hunter as he saw fit. The latter was given with great protest, but that mattered little to Qui-Gon. They didn’t understand the history the two shared.

No one did.


	5. A Terrible Thing To Lose

Obi-Wan did not give up his struggle against the chains that bound him in the hold of the bounty hunter’s ship until he had no strength left to call upon.

“Let me go!” he screamed as he fought against the shackles and chains that bound him. It didn’t matter that the bounty hunter could no longer hear him. It didn’t matter that he was just screaming into the void and causing damage to his voice.

Sinking, defeated, to the floor, he wondered what would happen to him now. He hadn’t been able to get a good read off his captor prior to being deposited below deck. Even now he couldn’t quite pinpoint the man in the Mandalorian armor.

 _It seemed Qui-Gon knew the bounty hunter,_ he thought. _What has my Master been doing that he has come to be on a first name basis with bounty hunters?_

The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. Thinking on it just made him aware of more questions to which he didn’t know the answers.

At some point on the journey, he wasn’t certain when, he fell asleep. Well, passed out. In any case, he found himself unconscious and at the mercy of Jango Fett. He would regret regaining consciousness when finally he did.

))((

“Implore you to reconsider, I do,” Yoda said as he walked out onto the landing pad where Qui-Gon was preparing to to leave on his rescue mission. “Emotionally connected, you are. Impossible it will be, to separate yourself from your emotions. A danger, it will be.”

“I’ve made my decision, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon replied simply. “I cannot leave Obi-Wan in the hands of that man. I have precious little time to find Jango Fett before he hands my Padawan off to whomever is footing the bill this time.”

“Master Qui-Gon—”

“With all due respect, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon spat. “There is nothing you could say to change my mind. If you’ll excuse me.”

With that, he climbed up into the small transport and closed the hatch behind him, leaving the tiny green Master alone on the landing pad as he climbed into the pilot’s seat.

He knew what the small Master’s concerns were. He chose to ignore them. Time was of the essence and none else in the Order would have such a keen ability to track the boy.

He was thankful for the _Slave I_ ’s unique hyperdrive signature; it did not take him long to find where the ship had gone. The trail was weak but it was there. It was all he had to follow to find Obi-Wan.

))((

“Wake up.” The command was spoken in a monotone voice from somewhere in front of him. As Obi-Wan opened his eyes, he realized that his body felt colder than it should’ve. A quick glance down revealed that, as he’d been unconscious, he’d been stripped of all but his leggings, which had been cut off at an obscenely short length. “Do you know where you are?”

The bounty hunter wasn’t wearing his helmet now, and Obi-Wan could see deep scars criss-crossing the man’s hard, dark face. He stayed just beyond the reaches of the bright light that seemed to be coming from somewhere behind the Jedi, but the shiny scar tissue was strangely illuminated.

Obi-Wan glanced around. “I’m in the cargo hold of your ship,” he replied after a moment. The bounty hunter smirked.

“Good,” he replied. “It’s always more fun when you’re defiant.”

 _What’s always more fun?_ Obi-Wan wondered, but he said nothing. It wouldn’t be wise to say anything more. If he was asked a simple question, he would give a simple answer. Nothing more.

“It’s not going to matter here in a few minutes,” the bounty hunter continued. “I’m sure you’re interested to know why you’re here aboard my ship.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head and said, completely deadpan, “I’m far more interested in why I’m nearly _naked_.”

The bounty hunter chuckled darkly as he stepped out of the shadows. He was still clad in his armor, but he had removed his jetpack along with his helmet. One hand rested on his blaster, the other held a small, blaster-like tool that made Obi-Wan uneasy.

“I do hope you manage to keep some of that sense of humor through this, little Jedi. I will enjoy purging your memories that much more.” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh yes. Even if your precious Master manages to find you, you’ll be of no use to him. I can’t risk leaving you trained as a Jedi when I hand you over for my payment.”

“You can’t do this,” Obi-Wan said, backing away as the bounty hunter approached him.

“Come now, little Jedi. It’s not as though you’ll be alone! There’s many others on their way to your same fate. There is a great demand for Force-sensitives in Hutt space. Apparently they make especially good sex slaves,” the bounty hunter said, pacing just a meter and a half in front of Obi-Wan.

The thought of losing his memories, of losing _Qui-Gon,_ brought tears to his eyes. He blinked them back as the bounty hunter advanced again. It wasn’t long before he was right on top of him, pinning him to the wall.

Obi-Wan tensed, preparing to wall his mind off, to fight. The bounty hunter’s smile widened.

“Please, resist,” he said with a chuckle. “I do so enjoy when they resist.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as the bounty hunter pressed the barrel of the not-blaster to his temple. He felt the familiar walls he used to keep Qui-Gon out of his mind when he needed privacy come up with ease. Reinforcing those walls would be his entire focus as the bounty hunter tried to erase his mind.

He hoped he would be strong enough to resist.

))((

He felt he didn’t breathe again until the _Slave I_ started to show on long-range sensors. He could feel Obi-Wan, his presence in the Force sharp, desperate.

Panicked.

It only made him more desperate to locate and recover the boy. He couldn’t think of who might want a Jedi, especially not one still alive. It took a strong-willed captor to be able to keep a Jedi in bondage. As much as he hated to admit it, Jango was strong-willed enough.

-Qui-Gon!- Obi-Wan’s exclamation echoed painfully through his consciousness. He gripped his chest as a wave of pain hit him through the bond he shared with his Padawan.

))((

White hot pain surged through his body as he clung to his memories with every ounce of strength left in him. How many times had the bounty hunter used the device on him? He had no idea. The pain was unimaginable. But he wouldn’t give up even one memory, not without a fight.

Beads of sweat formed along his hairline and dripped lazily down his forehead, stinging his eyes as he looked at the bounty hunter. Jango Fett leaned in, his face just inches from the young Jedi’s. He grinned as Obi-Wan gritted his teeth.

He pulled the trigger again and relished in the cry that escaped the boy’s throat. It wouldn’t belong now, no. The boy would give up soon. Weak and weary his defenses would drop just a little. Just enough.

 _Qui-Gon’s face when I finally admitted I love him_ , Obi-Wan thought, clenching his eyes shut once more. _The feeling of accomplishment when I finally made a working lightsaber. Bant. My room at the Temple…_ He pulled against the chains that bound him and tried desperately to pull away from the device held to his head.

When the pain subsided he gulped down air as though he’d been held underwater. As he fought to reinforce those mental barriers, Jango pulled the trigger once again.

 _Qui—_ The thought was cut off as the pain resumed. _Master. My Master. What is his name?_ Obi-Wan realized, horrified, that he’d dropped his guard. _No. No, I refuse to— What’s his name? Master—_ Just one brief lapse in control, just one tiny moment of weakness, and he found he could no longer remember his Master’s name.

Jango smirked as the boy’s eyes filled with tears. He did so enjoy it when they resisted.

))((

Jango led the boy roughly out of the cargo hold and out into the bleak, dusty landscape of Tattooine. Mos Eisley, Tatooine.

Still clad only in his torn up leggings, the boy felt naked and vulnerable as he was led along by chains attached to the shackles that bound his wrists. The bright sunlight was disorienting, as was the heat.

The sand was sharp and hot beneath his feet, stinging his skin with every step he was forced to take.

It had taken twelve grueling hours but Jango had finally managed to erase a good chunk of the young Jedi’s memory. Unfortunately, it seemed that what he’d erased had also erased his ability to understand verbal commands.

Jango didn’t mind that much, didn’t think the man paying for the boy would mind much either. For all intents and purposes, Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead. In his place stood a shell of a man who glanced around nervously, as though afraid someone might come at him from any direction at any time.

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not dead, merely trapped in his mind. He couldn’t communicate, couldn’t force his tongue to form the words he was desperate to say.His mind was like a madlibs puzzle, but he still remembered quite a lot.

He stumbled weakly along after Jango, grateful for the shade when finally the bounty hunter stopped in front of a small storefront with a wide, ragged canopy. Jango secured the chains to a bar just outside the door before disappearing inside, leaving the young Jedi alone.

All around him, Obi-Wan could feel the presence of the other beings on the planet. Stripped of so much of the baggage of his mind, he was far more in tune with the Living Force than he’d ever managed to be before. It was frightening, the clarity with which he could read every being within fifty meters of him.

He longed for the man with the beard and the crooked smile. He could picture the man so clearly in his mind, his steely blue eyes and long graying brown hair.

Who the man was, he hadn’t a clue. But the memory of him was soothing. It was most solid thing he had to hold on to as he struggled to cope with what he’d lost.

Jango Fett exited the shop shortly after.

“He’s all yours, Mut. Pleasure doin business with ya,” he called over his shoulder as he exited the shop. For one long moment, looked at the young former-Jedi. Far more simple-minded than he’d intended to make him, the bounty hunter almost felt sorry for the new life the boy would face.

Almost.


	6. Dear Old Friend

After he dropped the former-Jedi off with his new owner, the bounty hunter made his way back to his new home on Kamino. It had only been a year or so that he’d lived on Kamino, contracted to live there and provide his DNA for some massive cloning experiment. The project was still in its infancy, as was the single clone they had managed to grow past the fetal stage.

When they managed to perfect the process, Jango had been promised one unaltered clone for himself. The son he couldn’t trust any human woman to give to him. The life of a bounty hunter was dangerous, as was the life of anyone who happened to be a part of one’s life.

If he could keep a clone safe, raise it as his own…

It was raining as he landed on the landing pad out in front of the flat so graciously provided as part of his pay for his participation. It was _always_ raining on Kamino. He put his helmet back on just to avoid getting his face wet as he moved between his ship and his warm, dry flat.

It wasn’t really anything special, just a standard two-bedroom flat with a little extra storage space. It was more than Jango needed, but if he could actually go through with his idea of raising a clone as his son the space would come in handy. Children needed a place to spread out and run around.

As he poured himself a welcome-home drink, he pondered just how he would spend the money he’d made off Mut. Perhaps an upgrade to the _Slave I._ It was in need of a few repairs, after all.

He sensed the presence before his doorbell chimed. If anyone were to have asked, he’d’ve attributed it to the skills he’d learned bounty hunting. But this presence was one he sensed differently than those others. He was aware of anyone who passed within fifty paces of him, he couldn’t afford not to pay that close of attention.

 _Qui-Gon Jinn,_ he thought. _I was wondering if they’d allow you to come after me_.

When the door chimed, he gave it a casual glance before turning his attention back to the dry liquor in his glass. He had barely brought the glass to his lips when the door chimed again. He took a long, annoyed sip before setting the glass down and making his way across the main room to the door. As he reached to open the door, the chime rang once more.

“Nothing can be this urgent,” he said, rolling his eyes at the stunned Jedi Master. It was almost worth the way Qui-Gon was now crushing his throat with the Force.

Almost.

“Where is he?” Qui-Gon demanded. “Where _is_ he?” Jango’s feet were off the floor now, and all he could manage was a weak, airy chuckle of defiance.

The Jedi Master dropped him and he fell in a crumpled heap, coughing and wheezing as he welcomed air back into his lungs. When he managed to catch his breath enough to no longer feel like he was dying, he started to laugh again.

This was met with a swift kick to the side of the head, the force of which sent him sprawling backwards. Qui-Gon stood straddling the bounty hunter’s body, lightsaber drawn. It wasn’t ignited yet, but from the fire Jango could see in the man’s eyes he knew it was only a matter of time. He smirked.

“You’ve grown more violent in our time apart, Qui-Gon.”

“My apprentice,” Qui-Gon spat. “Where is he?”

“I’m afraid you’ll find him to be of no use to you now, old friend. You’re too late.”

“What do you mean?” Qui-Gon demanded, picking the bounty hunter up by the collar of his shirt with the Force. He held the man just over an arm’s length away, restrained from doing much else but talking and breathing, and ignited his ‘saber. “Choose your words wisely, Fett, for they may be your last.”

“Wasn’t it you who told me that attachment is forbidden for a Jedi, old friend?”

“I am not your friend,” Qui-Gon said. “The boy, Jango. Where did you take the boy?” When the bounty hunter did not immediately respond, Qui-Gon roared. “Where is he?”

“The Outer Rim,” the bounty hunter said finally. He relished in the relief that washed over his old friend’s face. There had been a time, long ago, when he’d seen that relief spread over that face simply for the fact that he was still alive. “Tatooine, in fact. Sold him to a man named Mut Brovado. But none of that will do you any good, Jinn. I told you, you’re too late. I wiped his memory.”

The Force bonds that held him in place dropped him quite suddenly as Qui-Gon staggered back.

“No,” he said. “It… You can’t have. I can still feel him. I…”

“I’m afraid it’s the truth,” Jango said as he retreated to retrieve his drink. He made it three steps before Qui-Gon froze him once more with the Force.

“You’re lying,” Qui-Gon said. “Even you could not be so cruel.”

“He begged for you, you know,” Jango said, defiantly meeting Qui-Gon’s gaze. The man was practically on top of him now. He could feel the blistering heat of his lightsaber at his throat. Its green glow gave the Jedi an eery, sickly glow. Jango did his best to mimic Obi-Wan’s voice. “No, please! No— Qui-Gon! Qui-Gon, help me! Help me!”

He should’ve expected the fist that met his gut and knocked the breath out of him.

“It took _hours_ to break him, Qui-Gon,” Jango panted as he struggled to breathe again. “I took great pleasure in stripping you from his memories.”

He was being choked again. He should’ve seen that coming, too. He should’ve seen a lot of things coming, but he found himself hung up on the fact that this time Qui-Gon was choking him with his hands, not the force.

The Jedi’s eyes were swirling with sadness and anger and pain as he squeezed the bounty hunter’s throat.

“You are not the only one who can purge memories, Fett. It’s a painful process with the help of those black market devices, but you know what? It’s far worse when done by someone skilled in the use of the Force,” he snarled. For a split second he could see the rugged hunter the way he’d once known him: a hardened street boy on Coruscant who always had a new story to tell. It was that split second that saved the bounty hunter’s life.

Qui-Gon threw him back in a rage, sending him cascading through the glass table that sat by the sofa in the main room of his flat. The Jedi stood and stared at the Mandalorian as he worked to pick himself up out of the broken bits of glass.

“Is this that famous Jedi mercy you were always raving about, Qui-Gon?” Jango asked hoarsely. Though both men knew he meant it sarcastically, there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Qui-Gon glared him down, saying nothing.

 _I should take everything from you_ , he thought as he stared down at the bounty hunter he’d once called a friend. _I should leave you with nothing but your life— even that you don’t deserve!_

But somewhere deep below the anger that festered and threatened to boil over within him was the peaceful man he fought so hard to be.

 _I should forgive you,_ he thought after a few silent moments of letting the rage go.

Jango watched the change occur right before his very eyes. It was as though a fog was lifted from Qui-Gon’s brain. His posture, his stance, even his _eyes_ changed as he deactivated his lightsaber.

As he sank into the heavily cushioned sofa, Qui-Gon thought of that last time he’d seen Obi-Wan.

 _I was too late_ , he thought. _I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I failed you._

He hardly felt it as Jango pulled himself up and sat beside him. The man could’ve held a blaster to his head and he likely wouldn’t have cared.

“It’s nothing personal, Qui-Gon. It was a job. Kenobi was a special request.”

“Why?” The Jedi Master’s voice was thick and raspy, as though he were on the verge of breaking down. _There’s no point in being upset,_ he told himself. _There’s nothing that can be done now. He’s gone._

))((

Obi-Wan stumbled blindly through the streets of Mos Eisley, the chains that bound him pulled along roughly by Mut Brovado, a particularly sleazy Corellian who smelled like he’d bathed in bantha piss most recently.

“Come now, little Kenobi,” Mut called absently. It didn’t matter to him if the boy could vocalize a reply. “There is much you must learn before I bring you to market next week.”

Obi-Wan stopped briefly at the statement. _Sold? Again?_ He tried to remember if he’d exchanged hands prior to when the mean man in the armor had brought him to this planet, but he couldn’t remember. All he could remember was that the man in the armor could not be trusted and that the man with the beard and the crooked smile was kind and warm.

There were strange, hazy memories that bounced around his mind. A woman with a strange, fish-like head. Could she exist? Surely that was something from a strange fever dream.

“Have you gone deaf, boy?” Mut demanded, pulling sharply on the chains. Obi-Wan stumbled and fell forward, splaying across the sand with his ass in the air. “Move!”

He scrambled to pull himself back to his feet as Mut continued to jerk the chains around, knocking him back down to his elbows more than once. Once he finally managed to get back to his feet, he cut the bottom of his left foot on a piece of discarded glass.

His blood stained the sand until nearly the edge of town before the wound finally scabbed over. He wished that the man with the beard and the crooked smile would come and find him.


	7. A Change of Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I upped the rating on this one as a precaution because, while the sex won't be explicit, from this chapter on there is quite a lot of questionable stuff about to happen to Obi-Wan and it's probably just a bit too strong for a T rating, ya dig?

Qui-Gon left late in the evening, intending to go straight home to Coruscant. _Sold to a man on Tatooine,_ he thought bitterly. _Even if I wanted to help him, he could be anywhere by now._

He didn’t want to give up on the boy, especially since he could still feel him through their training bond, but Jango spoke the truth. He was certain of it. The boy’s mind had been wiped. Obi-Wan was a strong young man, but even Qui-Gon would have a difficult time surviving such an aggressive memory purge.

Even if he managed to save Obi-Wan, there was no future for him with the Jedi. He wasn’t sure there was a normal future for him at all. As heavy as it made Qui-Gon’s heart, he decided to leave the boy wherever he was.

-I’m sorry this happened,- he said through their bond, unsure if it would reach Obi-Wan. Unsure if Obi-Wan would even be able to comprehend the words. -I will never take another Padawan. I will never forget you, and I will never forget the night we shared under the stars. Goodbye, Obi-Wan. I love you. May the Force be with you.-

))((

Jango had only seen the Jedi so painfully distraught one other time in his life, and that had been when they were teenagers playing ball in the small park near the Jedi Temple that some of the younger padawans and initiates would be allowed to visit on occasion.

His Master had come out and chided him for spending so much time away from his studies, and as he’d been dragged back to the temple he’d glanced back at Jango. He looked as emotionally broken then as he had while sitting on the Mandalorian’s couch.

He’d almost expected his old friend to start crying. He’d never seen the man cry, but it was clear that Obi-Wan Kenobi had been quite dear to him and the way he’d sat on the sofa and stared into the void had been rather frightening for Jango. He didn’t know what to expect.

After the Jedi Master left, the bounty hunter paced his flat for hours as he tried to decide what he should do next.

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that he finally managed to convince himself of what he needed to do.

He was going back to Tatooine. He’d steal the boy back. The least Qui-Gon deserved was to know that the boy had a good life now that he was no longer Jedi-special.

And the least Jango deserved was the fee for the job he’d performed. He’d never promised Mut that he’d be able to keep the boy.

))((

Obi-Wan couldn’t begin to understand what had just happened to him, but he knew that it was painful and not enjoyable in any capacity. Mut had laughed in his face as he’d squirmed and tried to get away.

And now he had to sleep outside, on the ground. There was a tiny, thin blanket for him to curl up with, but it did nothing against the frigid cold that fell upon the desert landscape as the suns disappeared beyond the horizon.

The dry, dusty sand was no help to his bruised and lacerated flesh. Every time he’d tried to pull away from Mut he’d earned a whipping. As a result, his back and sides were scored with small but deep cuts that oozed pus and stung when he tried to reposition himself on the cold, hard ground.

It was then that something quite strange happened. He heard a voice in his head that was not his own, not that he was particularly sure of what his own voice might actually sound like. All he’d managed to do since the man in the armor had dropped him off with Mut was gurgle and whine uncomfortably.

He suspected that, at one time, he had been able to speak. He couldn’t remember what it was like, however. Couldn’t even figure out quite how to get the Basic he heard in his head to come out of his mouth. The words fell flat somewhere between his mind and his tongue.

- _I’m sorry this happened_ ,- a man’s voice said, deep inside his head. It was gruff but kind and so familiar that Obi-Wan could’ve cried for the fact that he actually managed to make a connection.

 _Master_ , he thought. He _had_ belonged to someone before!

 _-I will never take another Padawan. I will never forget you, and I will never forget the night we shared under the stars. Goodbye, Obi-Wan. I love you. May the Force be with you,-_ the voice continued. Obi-Wan’s heart sank. There was such a tremendous finality to the man’s words.

He shivered under his thin blanket as the distant sound of Tusken Raiders on the move lulled him to sleep.

He woke to a sharp kick to his face and the blinding pain that accompanied it. Every muscle in his body was sore, but that was nothing compared to the way the soles of his feet and the lacerations on his back burned with his every movement.

“Aren’t you a lucky one?” Mut asked as he forced the boy to his feet. “I’ve already arranged a buyer for you. I _knew_ smuggling Jedi would pay off.”

He dragged Obi-Wan inside to clean him up. Couldn’t very well deliver damaged goods, not when the money was _that_ good. Mut wouldn’t have to work another day in his life if he stayed on Tatooine, but with that kind of money, who would stay on Tatooine?

))((

Bant waited anxiously near the landing pads at the Temple. She’d kept a near-constant vigil as she waited for Qui-Gon to return with Obi-Wan. Every time a ship had neared she held her breath, exhaling only when they passed by.

When finally Qui-Gon’s ship landed, it was all she could do to keep from sprinting to it. When Qui-Gon exited the craft alone, she felt her heart sink into her feet. The Master looked positively defeated.

His expression did not do his feelings justice. It was but for the grace of his connection with the Living Force that he did not project every facet of the pain and rage and sadness he felt on everyone currently in the Temple.

When Bant approached him, his confident stride faltered and he slowed, shaking his head sadly. Bant looked down at the floor. Qui-Gon continued on, knowing he had to tell the Council what had happened to his Padawan and what had likely happened to the others that had been taken.

))((

“You’re too late, Jango,” Mut said as the bounty hunter entered his shop. “I’ve sold him already.”

“Already?” Jango couldn’t hide the shock in his voice, though he was thankful that his helmet hid his expression. “I thought—”

“The money was too good to pass up. What did you think would happen, you could return the money I paid you and get the boy back?”

It was then Jango drew one of his blasters.

“No, I figured I’d kill you and take the boy,” he replied. “Who bought him?”

“That’s classified information, pally. If I gave out the names of people I’ve had dealings with to any old fool who’s come in here and pointed a blaster in my face, I’d be out of business.”

Jango took a long step forward and aimed at the man’s shoulder. When he fired, a blue ray of energy shot forth from his blaster and pierced a burning hole through the Corellian’s shoulder. The man hissed and grabbed his injured shoulder. “Tell me, Mut, and your next words might not be your last.”

Mut thought for a long moment before caving. “All right, all right,” he said. “Put your blaster away, I’ve got the name right here.”

He reached under the counter he stood behind and withdrew a datapad. Jango did not holster his weapon.


	8. Personal Hell

He didn’t know what to expect as Mut led him back to Mos Eisley, but he was relieved that he didn’t have to walk barefoot this time. He was dressed rather modestly, in fact. And his wounds had been seen to with some Bacta. He was feeling pretty good, save for the uncertainty ahead of him.

“Wait here,” Mut instructed as they approached the cantina. Obi-Wan did as he was told— where else could he really go, after all— and watched as Mut went inside.

A few minutes later, he came back out, but this time he was joined by a man wearing a thick black cloak that obscured his face. There was a strange chill to the air surrounding the man in the black cloak, though from the calm-yet-slightly-smug look on Mut’s face Obi-Wan felt he might’ve been the only one to feel that strange chill.

“Good,” the man in the cloak murmured as he appraised the young man he’d just purchased. “Good. He is just as I had hoped, Brovado. You have done well.”

The man in the black cloak stepped forward and Obi-Wan swore he could smell death on him. He backed away, not wanting this strange man to touch him. Mut glared at him.

“Obi-Wan, that’s no way to treat your new Master,” he said. The strange man turned to look at him.

“Obi-Wan? Did you say his name is Obi-Wan? Oh, how delightful! How delightful indeed.” He turned his attention back to the boy, who was still actively showing his disapproval.

Mut took the chain that hung from Obi-Wan’s shackles and yanked him forward until he was within arm’s reach of the man in the cloak, who immediately placed his hands on the boy’s face. Obi-Wan cringed, screwing his eyes shut as he tried to pull away, but the man’s grip was firm.

))((

When all was said and done, the death toll at the Jedi Temple was seventy-four, with forty more injured and seven— including Obi-Wan Kenobi— missing and presumed lost.

Though he knew there was much that needed to be done at the Temple, Qui-Gon knew he could not remain there. The memories the place stirred within him were far too painful.

He did not share his plans with the Council yet they were unsurprised to see him go.

He packed minimally, bringing only what he could carry on his belt and in his cloak. He didn’t foresee needing much else.

He left the Temple without a single goodbye. It wouldn’t be until hours after that anyone would discover that he had gone. Yoda would be the only one to feel him leave, and his only acknowledgment was to glance out the window from where he was teaching a group of younglings. Qui-Gon did not look back as he hurried away from the Temple.

He would travel as a drifter, working for transport from system to system. Someday he would return to the Temple, that much he was certain of. Until then there was an awful lot of the galaxy he had not seen, an awful lot of spaceports in which to lose himself.

An awful lot of people who could use the help of a man who would not pause long enough to tell his name.

))((

Jango left Mut with his life after extracting the information he needed, true to his word. Of course, he had taken pleasure in ridding the man of the use of more than one limb. It was possible to live without an arm and a leg, after all.

A Sith Lord. Jango had heard of and dealt with some strange clients over the course of his career, but this was the first he’d heard of any real dealings with a Sith Lord.

 _Darth Sidious_ , he thought as he read the dossier Mut had provided. Jango realized that his real client had been the Sith the whole time. _I’ve heard of him. Whispers in the shadows of the Dark Lord rising to power._ The boy was a special request, and from Mut’s recounting of their first and only in-person meeting, the Sith had been mildly impressed that the Jedi he’d come to purchase had been the one he’d requested.

 _Qui-Gon needs to know this,_ he thought. _He can’t let the boy remain in the hands of the Sith._

As he took off from Tatooine, he weighed his options. He knew if he returned to the Temple the odds were good that he would be arrested or even killed, but Qui-Gon might not respond to a transmission from the bounty hunter.

 _Well, old friend,_ he thought as he punched the coordinates for Coruscant into his navigational computer, _I certainly hope the Jedi are as peaceful as you’ve always boasted._

))((

On the transport from Tatooine to wherever he was being taken, Obi-Wan’s sole reason for existing seemed to be just to stay as far away from the strange man in the black cloak as he possibly could. Every time he sensed that strange, cold presence drawing near to him, he fled his hiding place in search of someplace better. For him, it was terror for his life.

For Darth Sidious, it was an amusing game. The boy thought he could hide, thought he stood a chance against the Lord of the Sith. How quaint. He would indulge the boy for a while, it was a _long_ journey back to Coruscant, after all. The boy would grow weary. On Coruscant, he would no longer be able to put up a fight.

 _Run, little Kenobi,_ he thought, amused, as he felt the boy scamper away from him yet again. _Wear yourself out. It is only a matter of time before you will be mine._

The boy’s fear was positively delicious. The Sith was almost certain that Mut’s assurance that he was as slow and docile as one who’d had a lobotomy was false. There was too much fight in the boy. Clearly he was still attuned to the Force, even if he couldn’t understand what he was feeling.

Obi-Wan climbed into a cupboard near the cockpit. He just barely fit, but it was the best hiding place he could think of. He _had_ to get away from Sidious. Just being in the man’s presence made him feel dirty. He hoped to be able to escape upon landing, but he wasn’t counting on it. Sidious seemed to know where he was before he’d even managed to properly hide each time. It was almost as though he was reading his mind.

The telltale footsteps approached again and Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes, waiting. He could feel the man’s presence grow stronger as he approached. He wanted to flee, oh how he wanted to run and find a place the man would never find him.

“It’s not often that I have the opportunity to torture a Jedi,” he heard Sidious say on the other side of the cupboard door. “Were I you, Obi-Wan, I might run and hide, too.” He chuckled darkly then, and the sound shook Obi-Wan to the core. He pulled his knees tighter to his chest and hid his face in his arms.

The cupboard door opened in a flash and Obi-Wan found himself being pulled forcefully from his hiding place. He kicked and flailed, but it was no use. As he opened his eyes to appraise his situation, he realized that the man wasn’t even _touching_ him. This realization only served to cause him further panic. Sidious’ smile grew even wider and more sinister as Obi-Wan continued to struggle.

“It’s no use,” Sidious said in a mockingly sad tone. “You’re simply no match for me any longer, Obi-Wan. There was a time that your old Master spoke so highly of you that it reached even my ears. It seems, however, that you’ve been rendered too simple to be of any real use to me. No matter. Imagining Qui-Gon Jinn’s torment at finding that a Sith Lord has been responsible for the torture and death of his apprentice will be just as sweet as using you against him.”

))((

Jango changed out of his armor as he approached Coruscant. If he was to get far enough into the Jedi Temple that he could see Qui-Gon, he’d have to look and seem as non-threatening as possible.

He landed in front of the Temple and was not surprised to find that there was a small group of Jedi waiting for him as he debarked. He stepped onto the landing pad and put up his hands.

“I seek audience with Qui-Gon Jinn,” he said as the Jedi approached him. “I’m an old friend and I’ve information about his Padawan Learner that he needs to hear.”

“Qui-Gon Jinn is not here,” replied a tall black man Jango had seen on more than one occasion. He was nearly certain that he was on the Jedi Council, but he’d never bothered to learn the man’s name. “He left several days ago.”

“Did he say where he was going?” Jango asked. “It is very important that I make contact with him at once.”

The man folded his arms across his chest. “He is in mourning for the loss of his Padawan. We are allowing him space.”

Jango sighed. “Great. Well _this_ was a waste of time.”

As he turned to walk back to his ship, he felt a strong hand take his shoulder.

“Jango Fett, you are under arrest for the abduction and memory wipe of multiple Jedi.”

 _I don’t have time for this,_ thought Jango. He glanced back. There were five Jedi and only one of him. He had one blaster, they each had their lightsabers. The odds were stacked against him, but when in his life had they ever not been?

As the Jedi moved to pull his arms behind his back, Jango whipped around and pulled his blaster, shooting the possible Jedi Council member in the shoulder. In that same instant, the other four Jedi that had come out to meet him had their weapons drawn, electric blades humming ominously as they approached.

Jango backed up the ramp into his ship and sprinted to the cockpit. He felt one of the Jedi jump onboard before the ramp went up all the way. He was loathe to have to deal with another Jedi, especially with the new obstacle of having to find Qui-Gon Jinn before being able to do anything about the Sith Lord that had Obi-Wan…

_Why did I decide to try and help?_


	9. Helpless

Coruscant. Obi-Wan was certain he’d been there before. The buildings and the congested speeder traffic and the hazy orange and purple sunset… As Sidious ushered the boy into the strange, decrepit-looking building, he took a good hard look at his surroundings. He was certain he’d been there before, but he couldn’t remember when.

He was no longer shackled, but he knew it would be foolish to try and run. The Sith Lord had proven precisely how powerful he was while they were still on board the ship. There was a painful hitch in Obi-Wan’s gait that was a constant reminder of what the Sith could do to him.

Sidious grinned as he felt the boy’s pain with every step he was forced to take. His cries of pain as he’d been violated had been music to Sidious’ ears. It was only too bad that the boy could not speak. _Perhaps_ , he thought, _I can teach him again. That bounty hunter did an amateur job. Perhaps…_

He opened the door to a flat on the same floor as the landing pad and shoved Obi-Wan inside. He followed close behind, locking the door behind them. Obi-Wan could sense the presence of another person in that flat. They felt just as cold and unpleasant as Sidious.

“Good, good,” Sidious said as he slowly, lazily began to circle Obi-Wan. The flat was cast in near-total darkness with only the pale glow of the door panel to illuminate anything. Obi-Wan blinked hard but could not convince his eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Your fear tastes sweet, Obi-Wan. Your old Master would be disappointed. A Jedi fears nothing. Not even my own apprentice, Darth Maul.”

The second presence moved closer, and all at once the lights hanging on the walls turned on, causing Obi-Wan to stumble back and cover his eyes. He managed to catch a small glimpse of the other in the room and his breath caught in his throat.

 _Jedi_. The word meant something to him, but he wasn’t certain precisely _what._ How he wished he could access all of his memory. He couldn’t even remember how he’d lost his memory. He could remember the man with the graying hair and crooked smile trying to save him and the next thing he knew he was being sold to Mut Brovado.

An icy leather glove pressing into his throat brought him out of his thoughts and he gave a startled grunt as the one called Maul lifted him.

“Are you certain it was a Jedi, my Master?” Maul asked, raising an eyebrow. “The Force is not very strong with him.”

Obi-Wan clawed at the hand that tightened around his throat, kicking and thrashing as his lungs began to scream for air. Panic bubbled up in him as he fought to breathe. Sidious laughed as the boy continued to struggle, his movements growing both weaker and more desperate with every passing second.

“Enough, Lord Maul. This boy still has his training link with his Master. Why end his life and cause the Master one minute of pain when we can draw out the torture and cause two Jedi to suffer indefinitely?” Sidious asked as Maul released Obi-Wan, who fell in a crumpled heap to the floor, coughing and sputtering as he took great desperate gulps of air.

 _What does he mean by that?_ Obi-Wan wondered as he stared up at the two men in horror. Sidious had just said his life would be spared— for now— but Obi-Wan didn’t like the prospect of a life of pain and suffering, especially if it would also somehow cause someone else pain and suffering.

“On your knees, Jedi scum,” Maul said. When Obi-Wan didn’t immediately obey, he was met with a sharp kick to the ribs. He felt— and heard— a painful crack. Maul heard it too. When Obi-Wan managed to look up at the tattooed man, his face bore a disturbing grin. “I said, on your knees.”

Obi-Wan pulled himself to his knees, cringing as he shifted his weight around the broken rib.

“Open your mouth, Obi-Wan.” This time it was Sidious who spoke. Obi-Wan looked over at him, temporarily distracted by the older man. That was all it took. Obi-Wan’s lips parted ever so slightly in his confusion. Maul took this as an invitation.

Strong hands forced his head forward, forced his mouth to open wide to accommodate the Sith Lord.

))((

He was helping rebuild a hyperdrive on Alderaan when it happened. Suddenly, violently, his vision changed. No longer was he looking at the engine he was working on, but rather on black robes and something Qui-Gon couldn’t quite make out. He could hear strange disembodied laughter that made him feel incredibly uneasy.

It was then that the pain and confusion and fear hit him. It was then that he realized what was happening. _Obi-Wan_ , he thought in stunned horror. _Fool! You gave up on him too quickly and now he’s in danger!_

 _-_ Where are you? Obi-Wan, where _are you_?- Qui-Gon demanded through their link. He received no response. -Obi-Wan?-

Another flash of that same horrible vision, that same pain and confusion. Qui-Gon sank to his knees, then sat on the floor. Reaching out to him through the Force, he couldn’t quite pinpoint him. Obi-Wan was too far away. He had no idea in which direction.

_Jango said Tatooine. I should go to Tatooine._

It was nothing more than a tiny glimmer of hope hidden deep within a mountain of pain, but for the first time in days Qui-Gon did not welcome death at any time. There was a chance he could see his Padawan again, a chance that he wasn’t as far gone as the bounty hunter had insisted.

 _I let my grief get the best of me,_ Qui-Gon thought. He had a hard time reconciling that with himself.

Another flash from his Padawan’s perspective. He was on the floor looking up in a brightly lit room. There were two other men in the room, standing quite close. They wore black robes. One was in the middle of disrobing, the other watched on, laughing at Obi-Wan’s fear.

He began to wonder if Obi-Wan was aware of what he was projecting. He wondered if their connection was damaged somehow. Perhaps he could only project, not receive. Qui-Gon hoped that wasn’t the case. He hoped Jango wasn’t as good as he claimed to be.

))((

The bounty hunter only had a split second to react as a lightsaber came crashing down through the pilot’s seat. He was up and facing the Jedi who had managed to come aboard, his blaster drawn. He was know match for a lightsaber, that much he knew. He’d seen Qui-Gon use his far more times than he cared to have. Vicious weapons, able to kill with a single casual gesture.

“I’m trying to make this right,” he said. “Please. I have information that Qui-Gon Jinn needs to hear.”

“You can tell the Council then,” replied the woman who stood before him. She couldn’t have been much older than twenty-two or twenty-three. She stood more than a foot and a half shorter than him, but she didn’t need height to be intimidating. Her eyes were fierce, focused.

“I’m afraid that won’t work,” Jango said, leveling his blaster at her chest. It was set to stun; he didn’t want any more reason for Qui-Gon to look at him with pain in his eyes. But he also couldn’t allow this young knight to slow him any further. “The information is time sensitive. By the time your Council passes it on, it will be too late.”

That ‘saber of hers passed awful close to his face— far too close for his comfort— and he put his finger on the trigger. “Please, I have a thing about shooting girls. It doesn’t seem right.” The look she gave him was something between a glare and a snarl.

She deflected his first two shots, but she didn’t anticipate the third in time. A split second too late she moved to block, but it hit her in the chest. She slumped backward, her lightsaber deactivating as it fell from her hands. Jango took it and stowed it under his co-pilot’s seat.

She was small enough that he was able to carry her with ease, though when she’d fallen her hair had come loose from the intricate braid it had been tied back in. It was long enough that it was tripping him up as he carried her.

Unlike Kenobi, he put the girl in a cage. She was clearly far stronger with the Force than the boy had been and he had no time for her to go breaking through shackles.

 _Where would Qui-Gon go?_ He wondered once she was safely stowed away. He would bring her back to the Jedi Temple once Qui-Gon knew what he had learned from Mut. Hopefully he’d be bringing Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan back then, too.

He’d start on Tatooine. If Qui-Gon was still anything like he’d been when they’d been pals so many years ago on Coruscant, he’d go there to begin his search. He _knew_ that was what Qui-Gon was doing. It _had_ to be. He wouldn’t just abandon the boy that way. His empathy wouldn’t allow for it.

))((

Obi-Wan was sprawled, naked and bleeding, across the floor, feeling thoroughly violated. Every tiny movement was torturous. He knew something had ripped when Sidious had taken him from behind. The pain had been excruciating. Now it was just as bad but in a different way.

The two Sith had gone, leaving him alone to clean himself up and fix his wounds. Two things he was in far too much pain to consider.

After the Sith had taken him so violently and so thoroughly, they had beaten him and left him bruised and weak on the floor.

He didn’t know how long had passed since he’d been left alone, nor did he know how many times he’d drifted in and out of consciousness. If this was going to be his life, he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue with it.

As dawn’s first rays of sunlight peeked through the windows, he finally passed out.

While he slept, he dreamed. They were grand dreams of incredible adventures with the man with the crooked smile. In his dreams that man radiated love for him and touched his shoulder, his arm, his hair quite often to reassure him.

In his dreams he could speak, though he couldn’t hear his own voice.

In his dreams he wasn’t in pain.


	10. A Chance Meeting

He was finding it rather difficult to secure transport all the way to Tatooine, but there were many who were traveling shorter distances who were more than willing to help a Jedi.

“I hear there’s a trader going as far as Malastare. It’s a little out of the way for you, Master Jedi, but it will bring you far closer than any of us can,” he was told by a Corellian who was only willing to go as far as Cato Nemoidia. This piqued Qui-Gon’s interest.

“Who is it?” he asked. The Corellian thought a moment.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know her name. I’m almost certain she’s on platform twenty-seven, though. If you hurry, you might still catch her.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Qui-Gon said, patting the man on the shoulder before hurrying along.

Platform twenty-seven was not terribly far from platform eight, but the spaceport was crowded and Qui-Gon couldn’t very well just go plowing through the crowd without regards for those around him. He hadn’t been quite prepared for quite how thick the crowd was, however. With every person who refused to move as he politely said, “excuse me,” he grew more and more frustrated.

“Yo, make way for the Jedi! Get moving, get moving, we got us an important Jedi Master here!” Someone shouted from roughly the level of Qui-Gon’s knee. He was stunned to see the crowd part. He looked down and found himself looking at a strange, cat-like species he had never seen before. It stood on its hind legs and barely reached the man’s knee. It was staring at him.

“Well?” it asked. “What are you waiting for! Go!”

“Thank you, my friend,” he said before turning his attention back to the task at hand. He was only vaguely aware of the creature following him.

When he reached platform twenty-seven, he found that there was a ship there, but its pilot was nowhere to be found.

“Can Kitmoi help you?” The strange creature that had helped him through the crowd asked. Qui-Gon blinked hard.

“Do you know the pilot of this vessel?”

The creature smiled up at him. “Kitmoi Piel’s the name, my good Jedi sir.”

“ _You’re_ the pilot?” Qui-Gon asked, barely able to contain his disbelief. The creature only smiled wider.

“Fastest pilot in the galaxy,” Kitmoi replied. The statement wasn’t boastful, rather stated as though it were fact. Qui-Gon was almost inclined to believe the tiny creature.

“I’m Qui-Gon Jinn,” he said, “and I heard you’re going to Malastare.”

“That’s right,” Kitmoi replied.

“Would you be willing to take me with you?” Before the question was fully past the Jedi’s lips, Kitmoi was nodding enthusiastically.

“Of _course_! Kitmoi is _always_ pleased to help the Jedi! Why is a Jedi going to Malastare, if you don’t mind Kitmoi asking?”

“I’m trying to get to Tatooine, actually. A friend of mine is in dire trouble, but Malastare is the farthest—”

“Say no more, dear Jedi Qui-Gon friend,” said Kitmoi. “If is necessary for you to reach Tatooine, Kitmoi will take you to Tatooine.”

))((

Obi-Wan cowered in the fresher as he heard heavy footsteps approaching in the corridor outside of the flat in which he was being held. He could feel that same terrible cold presence approaching. He knew he was too weak to withstand another day of slow torture at the hands of the one called Maul.

He locked the fresher door as he heard the door to the flat hiss open. Someone entered and the door hissed closed behind them. Obi-Wan held his breath as the person walked slowly through the flat, lazily searching for him as if they didn’t already know precisely where he was.

Many of the bruises he’d suffered the night before were already beginning to fade, but the deeper injuries remained and throbbed painfully. They made it incredibly difficult for him to move.

The door to the fresher hissed open then and Obi-Wan pressed himself further down into the corner of the sonic as a robed figure approached.

As the robed figure opened the door to the sonic, Obi-Wan expected to see Sidious. Instead he found himself facing an old man who looked to stand shorter than he did with fluffy white hair in a horseshoe around the sides and back of his head. He looked down at Obi-Wan with concern in his eyes, but his presence felt just as foreboding and cold as Sidious.

“You poor thing, you look like a dog that’s just been beaten by its master,” the man said. There was something terribly familiar about his voice, but Obi-Wan couldn’t quite place it. It did, however, make him distrust the man from the start, even when he was offered a hand. He pulled himself to his feet on his own, careful not to touch the man’s outstretched hand in any way as he did so.

There was kindness in the man’s eyes, mixed with something else that Obi-Wan didn’t recognize. “Come now,” the man continued. “I won’t bring you any harm. I’ve been instructed to feed you and see if we can’t find a way to get you talking again.”

Obi-Wan didn’t understand. Why would Sidious want him to be able to speak? None of this made any sense to him.

His confusion must’ve been plain on his face because the man chuckled and shook his head.

“It’s all right, Obi-Wan. I know that life is harsh and confusing for you right now. With a little time and patience, I believe we can ease some of that for you. Now, I’ve brought dinner. You must be quite famished, as I understand it you’ve been without food for at least two days. That’s just positively inhumane. I shall have to speak to Sidious about your conditions.” Obi-Wan thought he detected the slightest hint of a smirk on the man’s face as he spoke of Sidious. He didn’t trust that, either.

His stomach betrayed him though, gurgling loudly as he stood there, indecisive. The man smirked.

“Come, Obi-Wan. I will not harm you. You’ll like the food I’ve brought, I promise you.” _I know you will_ , Sheev Palpatine thought _, because I’ve done my research on you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I know everything about you. I know just how to break you over and over again._

Obi-Wan relented, following him out of the fresher and into the tiny dining area where he’d sat and bandaged the worst of his wounds when he’d finally had the strength to move. There was a large amount of food sitting on the table now, arranged in multiple small bowls meant for the two to share. It smelled positively divine.

Obi-Wan’s mouth was watering as he approached the table. It took all of his self control to keep himself from launching himself at the table and eating all of it. Palpatine chuckled as he gestured for Obi-Wan to take a seat.

“Please,” he said, “tuck in, young Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan hesitated as he reached for a bowl filled with what appeared to be some kind of spicy meat and rice. _What if it’s poisoned?_ He pulled back his hand and looked away.

 _Oh,_ delightful _, positively delightful! The boy fears that I’ve put something in the food,_ thought Palpatine. He reached forward then and took the bowl Obi-Wan had been reaching for. He scooped a small portion onto his plate before setting the bowl back in front of the boy. He made a big show of taking a bite.

When nothing seemed to happen, Obi-Wan hungrily reached for the meat and rice, scooping nearly all of it onto his plate before devouring it in three large bites. He proceeded to do the same to two more strange spicy meat dishes before managing to find even a small amount of self control.

His stomach was beginning to ache, but he was still so hungry. Across the table from him, Palpatine was slowly eating a strange blue and purple salad as he watched him intently. The way he was staring made Obi-Wan feel dirty.

))((

“Fuel her up and check the hyperdrive,” Jango told the droids that were attending to his ship while he sought out Qui-Gon Jinn. If he was on Tatooine, Jango would find him. “I expect it to be ready when I get back.”

He was wearing his armor once more; he couldn’t risk showing his face in Mos Eisley. He wondered if Mut had made it away from his shop yet. He wondered if Mut had survived. He found, with very little thought, that he didn’t much care on either matter. He calmed his mind and took in his surroundings. He didn’t immediately sense the Jedi, but that didn’t mean anything.

He would start by just walking through the settlement and paying close attention to those he passed. If he didn’t find Qui-Gon here, there were two other reasonably close settlements he could search before having to search elsewhere.

There was a strange silence to the crowds through which he passed. He wondered what had happened in the time since he’d gone to alert Qui-Gon at the Jedi Temple to frighten the people there, but that was all he could infer from the faces of the people he passed. They were afraid.

Only a few were afraid of him. He could tell by the way their posture changed as he approached. Most didn’t seem to notice him or care.

He looked up as another ship passed overhead, coming in for a landing.

 _Qui-Gon_ , he thought. _It’s gotta be him_. He didn’t know how but he knew that the aging Jedi was aboard that ship. He hurried to the hangar where it landed, eager to tell his friend the news he had.

He waited for the Jedi to notice him and waited for him to do the approaching. He knew he wasn’t particularly someone Qui-Gon honestly wanted to see. The slight jog the man did on his way over to the bounty hunter was a nice surprise.

“Jango,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping to find you, actually.” The Jedi raised an eyebrow. “I have information that will be important if you want to find Obi-Wan. And you’re going to want to find Obi-Wan.”

“I already want to find Obi-Wan,” the Jedi said. There was an unusual amount of guilt apparent in his eyes as he spoke. He avoided looking the bounty hunter straight in the eye.

“The man Mut sold Obi-Wan to goes by the name of Darth Sidious,” Jango said, his voice barely a whisper. He knew he had to be careful who heard him speak of the Sith.

The color drained from Qui-Gon’s face and Jango found himself having to grab him by the arm to keep him upright.

“No,” Qui-Gon said. “That can’t be. A Sith?”

Jango nodded, sighing deeply.

“I don’t know how much help I will really be, but you’re not going to be enough to take this Sidious guy alone.”

“You’re no match for a Sith either, dear friend,” Qui-Gon said as Jango helped him over to a bench so he could sit. “This rescue will be far more complicated than I had previously imagined.”


	11. We're Gonna Need A Montage

“How do you even kill a Sith?” Jango asked as they prepared to take off in _Slave I_. “Wait. How do you even _find_ a Sith?”

“That doesn’t matter now. What matters now is training you to fight so I don’t have to take the Sith alone.”

“What, do you mean you’re actually not going to go back to Coruscant and get yourself a battalion of Jedi warriors to help you?” Jango asked. He was only being mildly sarcastic. He hadn’t expected Qui-Gon to actually want to lone wolf this fight. “That’s suicide, Qui-Gon. There’s only two of us. From the way you used to make the Sith sound—”

“Sith Lords are very powerful, very dangerous. They are well versed in the dark side of the Force. Their use of their aggression and fear and anger in battle makes them strong. But we don’t have to be stronger, just smarter. Faster.”

“Still, I was _joking_ , Qui-Gon. Two of us against a Sith—”

“Old friend, if you want to rescind your offer of help, I won’t hold it against you,” Qui-Gon said. “But I could certainly use your help on this.”

Jango thought for a moment. “I won’t abandon you, Qui-Gon, but I think I’ve got something in my hold that may be of help.”

Qui-Gon raised a suspicious eyebrow as Jango led him below deck.

There in a cage, looking about as angry as any Jedi Qui-Gon had ever seen, was the girl that had managed to climb aboard before Jango had left the Jedi Temple.

“What are you doing with another—” Qui-Gon started, indignant, but Jango pressed one gloved finger to the man’s lips to hush him.

“I went looking for you at the Jedi Temple.” Qui-Gon looked surprised, to say the least. “Perhaps not my smartest move, but I did not have much choice. I didn’t know where else to start looking for you. They did not take kindly to me trying to leave once they’d informed me that you were no longer there. This little one thought she could take me.”

“He _shot_ me,” growled the girl.

“And _who_ might you be, young one?” Qui-Gon asked.

“My name is Hanli Bewin, Master Jinn,” she said quickly. “We’ve met briefly in passing, I believe.”

“Ah yes,” Qui-Gon said. “Well, I’ve got a special mission for you now. If you want to get out of that cage, that is.”

Hanliglared up at Jango.

“Oh, I want to get out of the cage, Sir,” she said.

“You won’t be able to harm my bounty hunter friend here,” Qui-Gon said. The girl’s expression noticeably fell, but she nodded her agreement. “We need him far too much. You’ll be helping us rescue my Padawan Learner.”

“Kenobi? But— But I’d heard he was dead!”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “No, but he _is_ in grave danger. We must hurry.”

“Shouldn’t we involve the Council in this, Master Jinn?”

“There is no time. The Council will debate the appropriate course of action for weeks while Obi-Wan is tortured endlessly by a Sith Lord.”

Her eyes widened as she nodded. “I… I will help in any way I can, Master, but I fear that a fight against a Sith is not one we can win.”

“We needn’t win anything,” Qui-Gon replied. “We just need to distract the Sith long enough to secure Obi-Wan.”

“This will not be an easy task,” Jango said as he unlocked the cage. “I’ve heard of this man Sidious. He’s not the kind of man I’d want to have any dealings with.”

“And yet you sold a Jedi to him,” Hanli snapped as she pushed her way out of the cage. She stood and stretched before turning to Jango and holding out her hand. “My lightsaber, bounty hunter.”

Jango reached into one of the pouches that hung from his belt and retrieved the small cylindrical weapon. She snatched it from his hand before he could even finish extending it toward her, examined it briefly, and snapped it to her belt.

“There’s no way this will work, you know,” she continued. “Even Master Yoda isn’t strong enough to take down a Sith Lord.”

“We don’t have to take him down,” Qui-Gon said. “Just distract him for long enough to get Obi-Wan away.”

Hanli scoffed and put her hands on her hips. “Oh yes, distract a Sith Lord. Easy as pie.”

“Hey, we don’t _have_ to let you help,” Jango said, folding his arms across his chest. “You could spend the rest of our adventure in the cage.” His eyes widened and he grinned deviously. “We could use you as bait. Leave you on his doorstep and while he examines his new Jedi we save Obi-Wan.”

“Except then _I’m_ stuck with a Sith lord,” Hanli said. Qui-Gon sighed.

“Enough,” he said. “This is getting us nowhere fast. We have to get back to Coruscant.”

“Why Coruscant?” Jango asked.

“The Sith are attracted to power. This Sidious has likely positioned himself in the Senate,” Qui-Gon said. “We’ll find him on Coruscant.”

“Then we should alert the Council. They can—”

“I will not endanger any more Jedi to save Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said. “Too many have lost their lives already because of this.”

“Then why do _I_ have to help?”

“Because you attempted to kill my ally and because it’s the less cramped of your two choices,” Qui-Gon replied without missing a beat.

))((

The strange man in the purple robes— who insisted that Obi-Wan call him ‘Sheev’ despite the fact that Obi-Wan could not actually speak— watched intently as Obi-Wan sat attempting to read a datapad. The words kept rearranging themselves in his mind. It was no use. He couldn’t focus.

“Take your time, young Kenobi,” said Sheev. Obi-Wan tried not to look at him. Didn’t he ever _blink_? “You did not learn to read in a single day the first time around, there is nothing that says you will understand everything again in one day.”

He didn’t trust Sheev, but he was grateful that the man was kind, if a bit too brusque and a bit too touchy-feely.

“I want you to work with these holo-tutors after I leave. It is very important to me that you learn how to speak once more.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He’d long since decided it was smarter to go with whatever Sidious or the others wanted of him. Struggling just made things worse.

It was quite late when Sheev finally took his leave and Obi-Wan found himself alone in the flat once again.

He decided to spend that alone time with his nose pressed up against the window, watching speeders and shuttles zoom past. Their pilots gave no thought to what was happening in the buildings they passed. Obi-Wan couldn’t really blame them, though he wished just one of them would notice him watching and maybe get close enough to see the bruises that covered him, the sadness and pain in his eyes…

He sighed as he walked away from the window. The datapads that Sheev had left for him with instructional holograms lay in a neat pile on the dining table, precisely where the old man had left them. Part of Obi-Wan wanted to check them out, but another, stronger part of him didn’t want to put forth more effort than was ever necessary. If learning to talk wouldn’t save him from pain, he didn’t want to learn to talk again.

))((

He looked so peaceful, all slumped over in his seat. Jango was loathe to wake the Jedi Master in his co-pilot’s seat, but it was necessary. They were approaching Coruscant. Jango needed to know where to land.

It was the calmest he’d seen his friend since their paths had crossed just days before. If he dreamt, they were pleasant dreams. His lips fought to curl into that crooked little smirk of his more than once as Jango watched him.

He raised his hand to prod the Jedi Master more than once before Hanli came barreling into the cockpit. “Oh for the love of the Force,” she said, rolling her eyes as she saw Jango hesitating. She walked over and nudged the sleeping Master firmly yet gently. He roused nearly instantly.

Jango sighed and glared at the younger Jedi before turning his attention back to Qui-Gon.

“Where am I going now?” he asked. “We’re fast approaching Coruscant and I’ve rather thoroughly burned all _my_ bridges there.”

“I have a flat,” Qui-Gon said, stifling a yawn. “Near the downtown renewal zone.” He could feel Hanli’s surprised gaze on the back of his head. “I have often found it necessary to have space to myself, away from the Temple. So many Force-sensitive beings in one place can prove a bit… Overwhelming. Especially when I’m trying to deepen my connection with the Living Force.”

Qui-Gon punched the coordinates into the computer for Jango and turned his attention back to the younger Jedi. “Someday you may understand, but I don’t expect you to now, young one.”

It would be the first time in a long, long time that he would visit the space without Obi-Wan. He wasn’t ready for how empty the space would seem.

Once they had landed and had debarked, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, probing as much of the planet as he could reach.

 _Obi-Wan_. His eyes snapped open as he felt the familiar presence of his Padawan. It was far away and weak, but it was most assuredly Obi-Wan.He kept his focus on that presence, unwilling to let go now that he was close enough to feel him again.

-We’re coming for you, Obi-Wan. I promise you.-


	12. 'Saber-Wielding Bounty Hunter

“This is yours?” Hanli asked as Qui-Gon led them into his flat. It was comfortably furnished and he liked to imagine it was relatively fashionable, not that fashion mattered much to him. Until that moment, Obi-Wan had been the only visitor he had brought there with him.

“It serves its purpose,” he replied with a shrug. Jango was the last to enter. Qui-Gon was far more interested in his reaction than he cared to admit. Jango seemed disinterested in what he saw.

“We’re still not enough to go up against that Sith,” Jango said. “Unless you’re gonna give me a lightsaber—” Hanli cut him off with a peal of raucous laughter.

“A ’saber-wielding bounty hunter? You’d cut your own arm off about as soon as you managed to turn it on,” she taunted. Jango shrugged as he removed his helmet.

“It’s no more foolish than the idea that we three could take Sidious on.”

“Neither of you is duty-bound to help me,” Qui-Gon reminded them gently. His face hardened as he put his hand on his lightsaber. “However, if you are going to help me, we need to train.”

“We don’t have time. If he’s in the hands of a Sith Lord, he—”

“Sidious won’t kill him,” Qui-Gon assured her. “He’s got a far better scheme worked out for himself. He’s making use of the training bond I have with Obi-Wan. After _someone_ wiped his mind, he isn’t able to control what he transmits to me. They get to torture two Jedi for the price of one.”

Jango looked down at the floor guiltily as Qui-Gon spoke.

“You need to work on your ’saber technique,” the Jedi Master continued. “The bedroom through that door over there is set up with a holoscreen and a couple of training droids. Study. Learn what you can. I’ll test you later.”

“Yes, Master Jinn.”

“Hanli.”

“Yes, Master?”

“Call me Qui-Gon.” _If we’re going to die together, we might as well be on a first name basis._

She nodded and turned to do as she’d been told, leaving the men alone. Jango strode further into the main room and sat on a plush sofa. Qui-Gon watched his every move, making no attempt to hide that fact.

“And what would you have me do to prepare for death, Qui-Gon?” he asked bluntly as he heard the door hiss shut behind Hanli. The Jedi blinked hard at the bounty hunter’s bluntness. He wanted so badly to be shocked, but it was just further proof that Jango was still the boy he’d known so intimately in his teenage years.

“Go, get back in your ship, and leave. Live.”

“And let you have all the fun of being tortured to death? Nah. I’ve always wanted to know what it’s really like, facing a Sith. The stories you used to tell—”

“The stories I used to tell were legends told to kids at the Temple. I’ve done some independent research… Oh, the stories I could tell,” Qui-Gon said as he strode across the room and sat down beside Jango. There was perhaps half a meter between them, but Jango tensed as though the Jedi had plopped down in his lap.

))((

Obi-Wan was curled up behind the sofa in the main room when Maul and Sidious returned. He felt them before he woke, but it was only Maul’s icy glove closing around his throat that roused him from the exhausted half-sleep he’d slipped into. He’d spent much of the time following Palpatine’s departure wondering when the torture would resume.

Now he found himself being held up by his throat, kicking and clawing at the Sith Lord that held him.

Maul laughed as he squirmed and fought, his grip never faltering. It was only as Obi-Wan’s protestations grew weak and his limbs grew heavy that Maul finally released him. Before he hit the floor, Sidious caught him with the Force and held him in place as he fought to catch his breath.

“Your former Master believes he can steal you away from me,” he said as he approached Obi-Wan, who did his damnedest to cringe away from him. “I can feel him. He believes it’s just a matter of training and quieting his mind and he can beat me.” He laughed heartily.

“I shall enjoy slaughtering the Jedi Master when he arrives,” Darth Maul said. Sidious looked up at him, unamused.

“The Master is mine, Lord Maul. When Qui-Gon Jinn is dead, you can do as you will to this boy. He’ll no longer be of any use to me.” Sidious turned his attention back to Obi-Wan. He raised one hand in the boy’s direction and an arc of blue electricity shot from his fingertips. Every muscle in his body clenched as electricity surged through his body.

All at once he collapsed to the floor, no longer being gently held up by the Sith Lord. His breath came in tiny gasps as his heart did a strange tachycardic dance. He stared fearfully up at Sidious as he slowly stepped closer.

“Please,” he begged. Sidious stopped in his tracks as Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. _I spoke?_ He tried to form another word, but all he could manage was to repeat, “please…”

He saw the Sith’s mouth twist into a frightening caricature of a smirk before electricity tore through his body again. A pained scream tore itself from his chest as he writhed in pain.

))((

Qui-Gon was sparring with Hanli when it hit him. All of Obi-Wan’s pain, his fear…

His death.

The Master sank to his knees mid-strike, as he felt precisely what he’d been fearing since he’d first started having that horrible recurring dream. It felt such a long time ago that he’d been having that dream, that dream warning him of the terrible things to come.

He could feel Obi-Wan dying. Until then, every emotion, every sensation the boy had sent through their training bond had been of simple pain. Now, his body was beginning to give up.

Jango was at Qui-Gon’s side in an instant. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

“He’s dying,” the Jedi said as the color slowly drained from his face. “We’re too late. We’ve got to get to him _now_.”

“But Qui-Gon, we don’t stand a chance—” Hanli began to protest as Jango helped the Jedi to his feet. He didn’t let go until Qui-Gon was certain he was stable.

“I’m not going to let my Padawan die alone and afraid,” Qui-Gon snapped. Jango was already strapping his armor back on as Qui-Gon strode over to the door. He slipped his robe on and clipped his lightsaber back to his belt.

“Do you even know where he is?” Hanli asked quietly as she joined them by the door. Jango slipped his helmet on and he was ready. They hurried out to the platform where _Slave I_ was waiting.

“I can find him,” Qui-Gon said, grimacing as he felt Obi-Wan’s pain again. He couldn’t tell what the Sith was doing to the boy now, but the pain was intense. -I’m coming, Obi-Wan,- he promised as he closed his eyes and cleared his mind.


	13. All Dead, All Dead

It did not take very long for Qui-Gon to navigate them to the building where the Sith were keeping Obi-Wan, though it would’ve taken less time if his attention hadn’t been split between the pain and fear and despair Obi-Wan was sending through their Force bond and attempting to track him using that Force bond.

The moment _Slave I_ touched down on the platform, the barrage of emotions from Obi-Wan slowed. When Qui-Gon’s boots touched the platform, it stopped completely, but he could still _feel_ him. He was still alive, but who could say for how much longer. He wasn’t even certain that he could save him at this point, but he had to try. He moved quickly, following that bond. He heard Jango and Hanli fall into step behind him.

As they approached the flat where Obi-Wan was being held, the door hissed open.

“He’s been expecting us,” Jango murmured, his hand on one of the blasters that hung from his belt. Qui-Gon put up his hand to stop him.

“We must go in peacefully,” he whispered. “If we show aggression he might kill Obi-Wan outright.”

Jango nodded almost imperceptibly as they stepped up to the door. The flat was well lit and nicely furnished. There was blood on the floor, some spots fresh, others weeks old. Near the back of the room, facedown on the floor, lay Obi-Wan.

His skin looked unnaturally white, his body strangely limp. Qui-Gon had to fight the urge to run to him. That may have been the wisest thing he’d ever done.

When Hanli caught sight of him, she bolted past Qui-Gon and Jango. Before Qui-Gon’s mouth could form her name, she was through the door and halfway across the room. There was a strange crack as a dual-bladed lightsaber ignited just to the left of the door. Hanli froze, her hand on her lightsaber.

Before she could draw it, her head hit the floor. A few seconds later, her knees hit the floor as her body slumped forward to join it.

Both Jango and Qui-Gon had their weapons drawn in an instant, but Qui-Gon didn’t ignite his blade until he’d crossed the threshold into the flat. Once he was inside, the door hissed shut, barely allowing Jango time to dive inside.

He rolled and had both blasters up and aimed at the man wielding the dual-bladed ‘saber. He was almost daring the Sith to move.

That was when they heard the laughter from the shadows near the door.

Every part of the room that they could see was nicely lit— except for the area by the door. If Qui-Gon squinted he could make out the shadow of someone lurking in the darkness there.

“Qui-Gon Jinn. I have been hoping you would come,” a man rasped, then laughed more forcefully. “Certainly you didn’t think a single Jedi and a bounty hunter would be any sort of match for me?”

“Darth Sidious,” Qui-Gon growled, raising his ‘saber defensively. The figure slowly stepped out of the shadows.

“And this is my apprentice, Lord Maul. A pity this shan’t be a fair fight, but you know how it is, Qui-Gon.”

“How _what_ is?”

“Life.” The hooded Sith ignited his lightsaber; another red blade arced through the air. Qui-Gon was quick to block Sidious’ first attack, but he hadn’t anticipated Maul joining in.

Four blades buzzed and crackled through the air, three of those blades trying to dismember the Jedi. Fueled by the pain of seeing Obi-Wan looking so helpless and close to death, Qui-Gon dodged and blocked, refusing to go down without a sufficient fight.

They chased him around the room, never giving him even a moment to rest, as Jango took Sidious’ distraction as a chance to check on Obi-Wan. It was only when he was certain that the boy was still alive that he raised his blasters again. If he could catch one of them off guard he could make the fight far more even.

“Impressive,” Sidious said as they worked to back Qui-Gon into a corner. He took a risky jump over a long couch and missed losing his leg to one of the blades of Maul’s ‘saber by less than an inch. The distance he put between them was worth it for the moment’s rest it provided.

As Maul raised his weapon to strike once more, his back became the perfect target.

Jango shot with both blasters. Six shots from each blaster. As he fell, his ‘saber caught his Master’s cloak, burning a large hole in the right side under the sleeve. When it hit the floor, it deactivated.

His eyes were open and he stared at his Master and Qui-Gon as they continued to fight, but he saw nothing. As Sidious and Qui-Gon moved across the room, Jango shot Maul once more, this time in the head.

A terrible scream from his friend pulled his attention away from the Sith he’d killed. Blue electricity arced through the air from Sidious’ fingertips, hitting Qui-Gon. Though the Jedi tried to block the attack with his lightsaber, it was too much.

“I’ve waited a long time for this moment, Master Jedi,” Sidious spoke the title mockingly as the electricity stopped abruptly and Qui-Gon fell to his knees. “Ever since I first sensed you. The headstrong rogue Jedi more in tune with the Living Force than any other alive… Your Master has always spoken highly of you, Qui-Gon. Too highly of you.”

The electricity resumed, but this time Qui-Gon was ready to counter. He focused every fiber of himself on shielding himself with the Force. The bolts of electricity flowed around him harmlessly rather than through him.

“You will not win this, Sidious,” Qui-Gon said. Even he was amazed at how calm he managed to sound. The effort he was exerting was extraordinary.

Jango shot four shots at the Sith then as he knelt to take the dual-bladed ‘saber from the dead Sith’s body. As he looked on, the electricity stopped once more and Sidious stopped the blaster fire in mid-air. As he did, Qui-Gon sprang to his feet and stabbed at Sidious with his lightsaber.

Though he managed to singe the fabric of the man’s cloak, Qui-Gon’s attack proved to be in vain. Sidious stopped him with the Force and redirected the blaster fire to hit him in the chest.

The last thing Qui-Gon saw before being blasted back and hitting the wall with a sickening thud was Jango igniting Darth Maul’s lightsaber. He was unconscious before he hit the floor, leaving the bounty hunter and the Sith to duke it out.

An amused chuckle escaped the Sith’s throat as he reignited his lightsaber. “That weapon is far too powerful for you, bounty hunter. You’ll want to put it down before you slice off your own foot. Or something more vital.”

Jango tightened his grip on the thick barrel of the weapon as he fell into a defensive stance. “I do so love when they’re arrogant,” he said with a sly grin that was purely for his own benefit.

“Your move, bounty hunter,” Sidious said with a lazy wave of his ‘saber.Jango did not hesitate. He rushed forward, striking first with one blade, then with the other. The Sith barely managed to deflect the second strike, which only made Jango’s grin grow wider.

 _How I love to be underestimated._ He blocked two rapid strikes by the Sith and tried to sweep his feet. Sidious leapt over him, striking his left shoulder plate. _Too close!_

He whipped around in time to see the Sith swinging his ‘saber, aiming for his neck.

))((

From his spot on the floor, Obi-Wan had a front row view of the fight. He had never felt so weak, so helpless. It was all he could do to keep his heart beating at a semi-normal rate. No man was meant to be electrocuted that many times.

Around the fifth time that the electricity had surged through his body, he’d realized that there might be something to Sidious’ theory. With each surge it seemed he was remembering something new. But each new surge weakened him and deepened his pain. His amnesia had almost been preferable.

When his Master strode into the Sith Lord’s flat, Obi-Wan managed a tiny, excited murmur that sounded strangely like Qui-Gon, though he still couldn’t remember his Master’s name. He _knew_ it was his Master, though. He’d come to rescue him. No one else would come and rescue him, he was sure of it.

The jumble of thoughts and memories dancing in his head refused to put itself in order as he watched the fight unfold before him, listening intently when the men would move out of his field of vision. His head was far too heavy to move. His body felt like it was made of lead. Cold lead.

All at once his mind was filled with another’s thoughts. Once more he felt the sensation of electrocution, but it was not his body on the receiving end.

When his thoughts were his own once more, he struggled to turn his head.

He wished he hadn’t, for looming over him was the man in the armor that had sold him to Mut. His heart rate nearly tripled as the man in the armor knelt down beside him and checked his pulse.

“Easy,” the man in the armor whispered, “I’m here to help you. Just try to stay still.”

Obi-Wan managed a tired, yet fearful, whimper as the man in the armor checked his body over. The man was surprisingly gentle. Obi-Wan still did not trust him.

When he had determined whatever it was he was set to determine, he patted Obi-Wan on the head quite awkwardly before standing and turning to face Sidious and the Jedi.

))((

He ducked, dodging what should have been a killing blow. He went to sweep his legs again and this time he met flesh. One foot raised too slowly. It fell to the floor with a sad thud as the Sith stumbled and fell on his back.

His demeanor changed entirely now that he was prone on the floor. Fearful, apologetic, Sidious begged for his life as he backed away from the bounty hunter. Jango wasn’t buying it.

“Please, I— I won’t do anything like this again. Don’t _kill_ me!” Sidious moaned. Jango knelt to pick up Sidious’ discarded lightsaber, watching the prone Sith and holding Maul’s ‘saber defensively all the while.

When he stood again, he ignited Sidious’ lightsaber and glared down at the Sith.


	14. Everything Went Better Than Expected

Qui-Gon was just beginning to regain consciousness as Jango loomed over the defeated Sith Lord. Well, they assumed he was defeated. He could not walk, he did not have his lightsaber, and he was backed into a corner.

He turned his attention to Obi-Wan, who appeared to be struggling to stand up. He didn’t have to reach very far to feel how weak the boy was. -Stay down, Obi-Wan,- he said. The boy’s eyes widened at the command and for the first time in a long time their eyes met.

-But he’s going to die!- Qui-Gon’s attention snapped back to Jango as Sidious cried out and blue lightning arced from his fingers to the bounty hunter, who fought valiantly to deflect it with the ‘sabers he held.

Qui-Gon forced himself to his feet and called his lightsaber to his hand. He took two long, powerful steps toward Sidious and Jango.

The Sith Lord’s head rolled across the floor, eyes open wide and seeing nothing. Panting, Qui-Gon stepped toward Obi-Wan before slumping to the floor in a heap. Jango deactivated both ‘sabers and rushed to his friend’s side.

“We need to get you to the healers at your Temple,” he said as he checked out the man’s wounds. The blaster burn he’d suffered on his chest was already beginning to fester.

“Take Obi-Wan to the ship first,” he said in protest as Jango started to help him to his feet. The bounty hunter shook his head.

“Old friend, your wounds are far worse.”

“Obi-Wan first,” Qui-Gon repeated. Jango sighed, but did as he was asked and went over to help the boy up.

Lifting Obi-Wan was a lot like lifting a life-size rag doll. Though Obi-Wan tried hard to support his own weight, he simply couldn’t. Jango had to half-carry, half-drag him out to _Slave I,_ where he strapped him into the seat behind the co-pilot’s seat.

As an additional precaution, he sealed the hatch before returning for Qui-Gon. They’d gone through enough trying to save the boy that he wasn’t about to lose him again.

Qui-Gon was back on his feet when Jango rounded the corner into the flat. He stood over Sidious’ corpse. He sensed the bounty hunter approaching but did not acknowledge him.

Jango crossed the room and stopped beside his friend, ready to offer his strength when the other’s ran out. From the way he swayed on his feet, Jango figured that would be any minute now.

He took his helmet off as Qui-Gon continued to stand there and stare down at the dead man.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for, old friend, but have you considered it might not be there?”

Qui-Gon glanced over at Jango. Their eyes met for just a moment, but it was long enough for the bounty hunter to see the pain and frustration in the Jedi’s eyes.

He reached out then and wrapped his arms around his friend, dropping his helmet on the Sith’s corpse. It rolled for nearly two meters before finally coming to a stop. It took Qui-Gon a moment to raise his arms and embrace his friend, but it was then that the tears flowed.

“C’mon,” Jango said after a long moment. “We need to get you back to the temple. You and Obi-Wan need healers and they’ll want to send someone to collect Hanli.”

Qui-Gon nodded and called the Sith lightsabers to his hands. He clipped them to his belt as Jango helped him out to _Slave I_. To have those fall into the wrong hands would be a terrible thing.

As they left the flat, he called Jango’s helmet to his hand. Before they boarded the ship, he leaned over and kissed the bounty hunter on his cheek before slipping the helmet over his head.

Jango stared down at him in disbelief, thankful for the way his helmet hid his facial expressions. He wouldn’t give Qui-Gon the satisfaction of seeing him blush.

He strapped Qui-Gon in the same way he’d strapped Obi-Wan in and started to prep the ship for take off.

“Stick close to me when we land, Jango. I won’t let them arrest you. Not after all the help you’ve given me. You killed a Sith Lord. That alone should redeem you in the eyes of the Council,” Qui-Gon said. The words were followed by a pained wheeze as he shifted in his seat.

He glanced back at Obi-Wan and found that the boy was staring at him with a strange, fascinated expression plastered on his face.

It felt like it had been years since he’d last seen the boy’s face even as it had been less than a week. There was a contentment in his heart again that had been missing all that time as he looked back at him.

“Hello, Obi-Wan,” he said. He managed a small, tired smile as Obi-Wan leaned forward in his seat and threw his arms around Qui-Gon’s shoulders, hugging him tightly.

There was nothing but love coming through their training bond as the boy slowly sank back in his seat. For the short flight back to the Jedi Temple, it was almost as though he had his Padawan back.

Jango removed his helmet as they landed in front of the temple.

“Here’s hoping they don’t just kill me outright,” he muttered. Qui-Gon shook his head.

“They won’t.”

Jango unbuckled both of them and helped Qui-Gon up first, draping him across his left shoulder before pulling Obi-Wan up onto his right.

“None of that funny business like back there now,” he scolded Qui-Gon as he helped them debark. Qui-Gon gave him a look of feigned innocence but said nothing.

As they stepped down onto the landing pad, they were greeted by fifteen Jedi with their lightsabers drawn. When they saw Jango they were ready to charge, but they deactivated their ‘sabers when they saw Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan struggling to stay on their feet.

All three of them were helped inside, Jango temporarily and wordlessly forgiven for his crimes.


	15. The Hollow Jedi

He looked up at the healers with confusion and curiosity in his eyes, but he did nothing to impede their work. They were impossibly kind and gentle as they worked on him. They even explained what they did before they did it to keep him at ease.

They weren’t hurting him so he wasn’t going to complain. He wasn’t going to say anything, though he remembered how to say a few words. They weren’t the man in the armor, so he wasn’t immediately distrustful toward them, but they also weren’t his Master.

 _Master_. The thought of him made Obi-Wan feel safe and happy, even if he was confused about much of what was going on around him.

He perked up when the man in the armor approached the medical bay he was being held in. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that man, but he knew that the last time he’d seen him he’d been with his Master. He hoped his Master wouldn’t be too far behind.

The healers were doing something to him that was making him feel extraordinarily sleepy. For the first time since the man with the armor had taken him to Mut’s shop on Tatooine, he wasn’t afraid to face unconsciousness. He was surrounded by people but he didn’t fear what they might do to him once his guard was down.

He cast one last pleading look around for the man with the beard and the crooked smile— his Master— before he let the dark, murky waters of sleep take him.

))((

Qui-Gon had been far more badly injured than he’d let on, though that surprised precisely nobody who knew him. Once Obi-Wan was safe and being tended to, he’d simply collapsed in the middle of the medical bay. It took two healers plus Jango to strip him and get him into a Bacta tank, where he would spend much of the next week.

The healers marveled at the wound in his chest and the fact that he’d somehow managed to walk— even with assistance— after such a wound.

With Obi-Wan being fussed over and Qui-Gon unconscious in a tank of clear goo, Jango was left rather listless. His injuries were not such that he required medical attention— not that he’d allow a Jedi healer to touch him anyway— but he dared not stray too far from either Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan’s side, lest the Council decide to rescind their tentative temporary forgiveness for his crimes.

“Your armor, need it you do not,” a voice from somewhere near his left knee caused him to jump as he peered through the crowd surrounding young Kenobi’s medical bed. “Uncomfortable, you must be. A guest here, you are, Jango.”

He _knew_ he knew the Jedi Master who was speaking to him, but it had been so very long since Qui-Gon had last complained to him about the Masters at the Temple that the tiny green Master’s name escaped him.

“If it’s all the same to you, Master Jedi,” Jango replied, “I think I shall be more comfortable if I continue to wear it. The tiny Master smiled and nodded once.

“Your choice, it is.” The tiny green Master fell silent then, but Jango remained aware of his continued presence near his right knee. There was clearly more that this little Master wanted to say.

After a long attempt at ignoring him, Jango sighed and turned to face him. His tired muscles screamed in pain as he knelt so he would be closer to the small Jedi.

“A troubled man, you are. At war with your morals, with your need to survive…”

“Look, with all due respect Master Jedi, you know nothing about me. I helped the boy and Qui-Gon because Qui-Gon is my friend. That’s it. There’s no clouded morals, there’s nothing there but loyalty and my wanting to make right what I’ve screwed up.”

Master Yoda looked at him for a long moment and Jango obliged, knowing it was better to simply cooperate with the Jedi at this time. With Qui-Gon unable to vouch for him, he was far more vulnerable in that Temple than he liked to be.

“Come,” the tiny Master said finally. “A meal, we shall put in you. Famished you must be. Return you can when full your belly is, mmh?” Jango hesitated, but the Jedi shook his head and insisted loudly. “No harm shall come to you, Jango. A hero you are, mmh yes, hero.”

He cast one last look toward Obi-Wan as he was led away. It _had_ been an awful long time since he’d last eaten. Whether it was smart to trust food given to him by the Jedi remained to be seen.

))((

When Obi-Wan woke up, he found the man in the armor was sitting at his bedside, casually reading a datapad. He wondered how long the man had been there. More than that, he wondered what the man’s intentions were.

There was something to be said for the paranoia and fear the bounty hunter had managed to cause within the young Jedi. Were he not already safe, it might’ve aided in his self-preservation.

As it stood then, all he managed to do was bonk his head against a panel that hung above his bed as he hastily tried to sit up. Groaning, he sank back against the thin pillow provided for his comfort.

A flash of a memory. _Intense pain. The man in the armor just inches from his face. Something held to his head._ Obi-Wan turned and stared at the man in the armor, his eyes wide. If he’d done something to hurt him before, what was stopping him now?

Obi-Wan remembered that pain. It had been worse than the lightning bolts that Sidious had coursed through his body.

“No,” he managed to say as he pressed himself against the wall. He never once took his eyes off of the man in the armor, who now was staring back at him with a look of utter confusion.

“What— Hey, buddy, I’m not about to— I mean I know I _did_ but—”

“ _No!_ ” Obi-Wan howled. A cacophony of alarms were sounding now, alerting the healers to the boy’s rapid heart rate and sudden, drastic drop in basal temperature.

The man in the armor stood as the healers came and surrounded Obi-Wan. The young Jedi’s heart rate didn’t drop until the man in the armor was no longer within his line of sight.

))((

“Old friend, I think the kid might recognize me,” Jango said as he approached the tank that held Qui-Gon. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing. I may have accidentally given him a heart attack just now.”

Qui-Gon, of course, didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. He just floated absently in the tank. The bounty hunter was glad to see that the wound was healing quite nicely. It no longer was anywhere near as deep or infected-looking. The Jedi Master still had quite a lot of healing to do.

Jango put his hand on the glass and closed his eyes. He could feel Qui-Gon in there. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel Qui-Gon probing him right back.

It had been many years since the Master had taught the bounty hunter a few useful Force skills and nearly as long since he’s actually made use of them, but Jango found it all came back to him pretty easily. Though he knew it had to feel pretty amateurish to the unconscious Master.

-How is Obi-Wan? Is he awake?- Qui-Gon’s voice filled Jango’s mind and for a moment he simply stood there, wide-eyed, and stared at his unconscious friend.

“He’s, uh, he’s awake,” he replied. “He woke up while I was sitting there reading. Hit his head trying to sit up. Took one look at me and started screaming, ‘no, no,’ over and over.” Jango felt a strange flutter in the Force. _Hope_. “I wouldn’t think too much of it, old friend. I hate to say it, but I’m the best there is at wiping memories. Outside of you full-time Force users, that is.”

-He is stronger than you are giving him credit for, Jango.-


	16. As The World Falls Down

It was three long days before Qui-Gon was deemed strong enough to leave the bacta tank. When they finally pulled him out, both Jango and Obi-Wan were waiting anxiously nearby.

Obi-Wan kept glancing nervously over at Jango, who had finally removed his armor at the insistence of the healers. He’d long since given up on trying to show the boy that he was no threat to him now, instead focusing his energy on doing productive things.

Things that had included watching paint dry and watching grass grow. Jango Fett was truly amazed by the things that passed for amusement in the Jedi Temple.

As soon as Qui-Gon was able to speak, he was asking about Obi-Wan.

“Rest a moment,” one of the healers soothed. “Your body needs time to adjust. Kenobi is doing quite well, all things considered. He’s been missing you quite a lot.”

“Let me up, I’m _fine_.” Qui-Gon’s response was nothing short of a growl as he sat up, pushing the healers’ hands away. It did not take him long to find and focus on Obi-Wan in the small crowd by his bedside. His eyes softened as he took in the face of his Padawan.

 _Former padawan_ , he had to remind himself. _There_ _’s no telling how far gone his memory truly is._ He felt a pang of sadness at the thought. So short-lived it seemed his happiness was destined to be. It seemed so long ago now that he and Obi-Wan had declared their love for one another and spent a happy night in each other’s arms. Looking at the confused young man who stood staring at him there with the small crowd, Qui-Gon wished he could turn back the clock.

Qui-Gon sat forward, taking his first real deep breath since being injured by the Sith. There was a small amount of pain as his lungs filled to capacity, but once that was over he felt fine. Better than fine. Bacta always left him feeling refreshed, which confused the healers to no end. Readjusting to the real world once being pulled from a bacta tank was supposed to be difficult, but he’d never found that to be true.

“Can I please have a few minutes to speak to Obi-Wan?” he asked after a moment.

“We… We need to talk to you first, Master Jinn,” one of the healers said. His voice was gentle and his tone soothing. Qui-Gon knew immediately that he was going to hear news that he did not want to hear.

The healers shooed everyone away, insisting that the Master would be available to them again after only a brief period. Once they were alone, they looked at him rather grimly. One of them stepped forward to help him get dressed while the other spoke.

“That bounty hunter did a number on the boy’s thoughts, Master Jinn. We’ve helped him to piece together a very large amount of his former life, but none of it is connected. There are things that he might not ever remember. There are things he probably hasn’t thought about since he was seven or eight that he can now remember in vivid detail.

“I don’t want to say that he’s a lost cause, because there is always something new and experimental to try, and he does seem to respond well if put around things that are familiar to him… But I don’t think there’s that terribly much more to be done for him.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed. He’d been expecting as much, though he’d hoped that things would be far simpler. He wasn’t ready to consider the idea that he would not ever see _his_ Obi-Wan again. Sure, he’d not completely lost Obi-Wan, but if what the healers said was true, he’d lost the essence of Obi-Wan, and that was almost more devastating.

“What should I do?” he asked. His voice was small, not unlike that of a child. The healer that had been speaking smiled grimly.

“Be there for him. He needs you, Master Jinn. He’s missed you while you’ve been out.”

“But he’s—”

“It’s not going to do either of you any good if you avoid him now that you’re awake. And I can’t see you actually doing that, anyway. He needs you. And you need him. We’re going to want to see him twice a week for the foreseeable future, to monitor his progress and see whether or not there’s anything we can do to help him. We’re going to want to see you in a week to make sure this isn’t too much strain on you, mentally or physically. You’ve been through a lot, Master Jinn. You can’t discount what’s happened to you or to the boy.”

Qui-Gon sighed and nodded. The healer was right.

“He’s not some complete stranger, Master Jinn,” the healer said, gripping his arm amiably. “Have faith. If anyone can help his memory return, it’s gonna be you.”

“I think you’ve got too much faith in me,” he murmured. The healer smiled and shook her head.

“It’s you who hasn’t enough.”

Qui-Gon turned and headed out to the waiting room, where Jango and Obi-Wan stood waiting remarkably close to one another. The Jedi Master wasn’t entirely certain that Obi-Wan was aware of how close the Mandalorian stood to him. He couldn’t imagine that he was so excited to see him once more that he didn’t really _care_ that the man who had tortured him and stolen so much from him stood just a mere meter from him now.

“How’re ya holdin’ up outside the bacta tank?” Jango asked, offering a hug. Qui-Gon, not one to turn down a hug, took him up on it, hugging him tightly, even if the physical contact made his sore, still-healing muscles ache.

“A couple good nights of sleep and I’ll be good as new,” he replied. Jango smirked. Obi-Wan cleared his throat. Qui-Gon released Jango immediately and turned to face the younger man.

For a long moment, the two just stared at each other as though each was daring the other to speak first. “I remember you,” Obi-Wan murmured. Qui-Gon perked up at that, if only slightly. “You’re my Master.”

“That’s right,” he replied with a slight smile. “Are you ready to go back to our quarters?”

Obi-Wan looked at Jango. Qui-Gon chuckled. “He won’t be coming with us. I’m sure he’s got things he needs to tend to at his own home now that the excitement is all over here.”


End file.
